


Five Times Peter Tried to Save Michelle

by seekrest



Series: Luminous and Unstoppable [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Marvel said PeterMJ rights!, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, POV Michelle Jones, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective Michelle Jones, Protective Peter Parker, irondad more like ironsad am i right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-03-08 14:46:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18896770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: And the one time she tried to save him.Or,Peter & MJ finally take the leap...But Parker luck has a habit of making life a lot more difficult.Especially for Michelle.





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> Peter & MJ are one of the most iconic couples in comic history (don't boo me i'm right) and I love where the MCU is taking them. Michelle Jones is such an interesting character to me and I'm really excited to see where their relationship goes next.
> 
> This was meant to be a fluffy take on their relationship but it's me so, it's heavy on the angst with a slide of fluff. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“You got the Park Avenue story for me, Jones?” Michelle’s head snaps up from her desk, Johnson looking down at her.

 

She nods in the affirmative. “Got it right here, do you need me t—”

 

“I don’t need a hardcopy, Jones. I need it emailed. Should’ve had it emailed to me an hour ago.” Michelle looks at the sticky note at her desk for the deadline, then to the time.

 

No. It was 3:05, Johnson didn’t need her copy till 3:30. But Michelle wasn’t going to argue with the man.

 

“Sorry, Mr. Johnson. I’ll send it right now.”

 

Johnson mutters something under his breath, something about millennials or interns, while Michelle frantically opens her email.

 

She wasn’t even a millennial, fit firmly into generation z or whatever they powers that be had labeled her generation – but she wasn’t about to argue. Not with Johnson. Not with this job.

 

It was such a sweet gig. An internship – a _paid_ internship – with the Daily Bugle. It wasn’t the Times or the Wall Street Journal, but it was an in – _finally_ – Michelle was able to channel her passion for justice towards something that actually meant something.

 

Well, justice by way of fluff pieces of a singing troubadour on 5th and Park but whatever – Michelle would take any road that she could to finally do some good in the world.

 

Protesting was patriotic. But actually getting the chance to shape the narrative, to tell people the _truth_ about whatever was happening – singing idiots and all – she’d take it.

 

Besides, it would finally give her something she could talk to Peter about. 

 

* * *

 

Her and Peter weren’t… dating exactly.

 

They weren’t _not_ dating, but they also weren’t… official.

 

At least, Michelle didn’t think so. Didn’t know. She had had a boyfriend back in middle school. A fling back during freshman year.

 

But Peter wasn’t either of those things. Peter was her best friend.

 

And then she’d kissed him. Or really, she’d kissed him back.

 

For someone who had previously been in a constant state of nervousness, who seemed to be perpetually tripping over himself, Michelle had been taken aback at how strong, how forthright he’d been.

 

* * *

 

“I like you Michelle.”

 

She’d only had the chance to blink. Shock. She looked up at Peter.

 

They were in his apartment, Ned in the kitchen making some kind of snack that Michelle had neither the desire nor the stomach to try.

 

“And I know you like me too.” Michelle was frozen. For someone who had a comeback for any idiotic thing that could have come out of Peter’s mouth, suddenly – she was speechless.

 

“You don’t have to admit it to me now, if you want. Maybe I’m wrong but, I don’t know. I’ve been thinking that life’s too short to waste time you know?” A sadness passes over his eyes and Michelle’s heart constricts.

 

It had been only a few months since Tony – Iron Man – had died. Peter was dealing with it as well as he could.

 

The snap, Thanos – all of it was beyond Michelle.

 

She didn’t remember it. No one really did. But Peter clearly had. Peter was Spider-Man.

 

MJ knew that, had known it for months – or years, she guessed since time was such a fluid concept nowadays – but she hadn’t told Peter that.

 

She also hadn’t told him how she felt, had always felt, about him. But with the look on his face, Michelle also didn’t feel like questioning it.

 

Because she did. Like Peter.

 

And she agreed. Life was too short to waste.

 

“So… what does that mean?”

 

“Well, I mean… whatever you want it to, I guess.” Peter shrugs. “But I’ve really been wanting to kiss you all day, so if you’re game…” Michelle’s eyes widen, glancing towards the kitchen.

 

“Ned…?”

 

“Went to the kitchen for a reason. I’m not an idiot, Michelle.” She laughs at this, then immediately sobers up.

 

“I’m not going to make out with you with Ned in the other room.”

 

“Who said anything about making out?” Peter smirks and Michelle grins despite herself. Peter leans forward, closer to her than he’s ever been.

 

“So?” He whispers. “Can I kiss you?”

 

She was mute, nodded silently. And then he did.

 

She’d kissed him back.

 

It wasn’t her first kiss.

 

But damn, if it wasn’t her best.

 

* * *

 

The day had gone on normally after that, Ned’s patience running out as he walked back in. Michelle had lied, they had definitely made out – she’d had to fix her hair, her shirt, her skin still tingling from where Peter’s hands had been.

 

Ned had walked in without a word, resuming the conversation he had previously left as nothing had changed. Peter had done the same, only giving a half-smirk to Michelle when she didn’t respond to whatever Ned had asked.

 

The day had resumed just like normal, like any other Saturday with her best friends. Peter and Ned arguing over some sci-fi thing, haggling over who ate more popcorn than the other. The only difference was that for three blessed minutes, Peter’s hands had been all over her, his breath heavy as he kissed her, her tongue in his mouth. 

 

How Peter could just resume their conversation like normal – could ease himself back into the familiar banter with Ned, was beyond him. She had looked at him, still in shock – at his confession, for how swiftly he moved across her – but Peter had only smiled, winked even.

 

The boy who used to be unable to talk to a girl without stumbling over himself was suddenly as calm and as confident as Michelle could be. Used to be. She didn’t know what the hell was going on anymore.

 

Michelle didn’t know what had changed for Peter.

 

But she liked it.

 

* * *

 

Things had only resumed… normally from there. A new normal. Michelle wasn’t sure.

 

They still hung out. Argued over whatever some idiot politician said. Studied together. Watched movies with Ned.

 

The world was adjusting, mourning for Iron Man. Peter most of all.

 

She wished he had confided in her, felt confident enough in their friendship – their relationship? – to share the truth about who he was. She’d be more than happy to talk to him about it, if he’d let her.

 

They hung out all the time. But they weren’t doing a lot of talking.

 

Sometimes, Peter would just sit a bit closer to her – would glance in her direction and smile. Would hold her hand in a dark living room. Steal a kiss before she left.

 

Michelle didn’t know what to make of it. There’s a part of her that wonders if Peter is deflecting, pouring himself into Michelle instead of dealing with his grief. Another part of her wonders if she cares.

 

Kissing Peter feels like every love story she had ever heard come to life, like any happy song finally had meaning. If this was his way of dealing with his grief, who was Michelle to argue?

 

Because they hadn’t – argued that is. Hadn’t really even discussed what they were doing.

 

He’d asked her once, if he was making her uncomfortable.

 

“Is this okay, MJ?” Michelle was breathless, dizzily opened her eyes at Peter. They were kissing in some corner of school, a quick moment between classes. She used to hate couples who would have PDA in the hallway, would yell – loudly – that they should get a room.

 

But then suddenly the couple was her and Peter, sneaking to some corner where no one could see, and Michelle suddenly didn’t care so much.

 

“Wh—what?” Michelle was still a little dazed. She didn’t know where Peter learned how to kiss like he did, a part of her burned with something – curiosity? Jealousy? – at wondering who had previously been on the other side of his kisses before, but it was still disorienting enough that she was lost in the moment.

 

Maybe Peter wasn’t as experienced as she thought he was – maybe she was still just delirious that Peter was kissing _her_.

 

“Is this… okay?”

 

“This?” Peter rolled his eyes.

 

“This. Us. Right now. Tell me if it’s not. I mean, I know consent has to be spoken and can be revoked at any time but I just—” She puts a hand up to his mouth.

 

“This isn’t a sex-ed talk, Parker. You don’t have to ask every single time.” Peter’s insistent.

 

“No, MJ – that’s the exact point of consent.” He moves her hand off his mouth. “It _has_ to be given every time – and can be stopped at any second. So tell me. Is this okay?” She looked into Peter’s eyes.

 

Brown. She used to hate the color brown, hated her own brown eyes, hated how much they had reminder her of the color of mud.

 

But then when she saw Peter’s eyes, she didn’t see dirt or anything dark.

 

She saw light. And suddenly, brown eyes were the prettiest thing in the world to her.

 

“Yes. This… is okay.”

 

“You’ll tell me if it ever stops?”

 

Michelle nods. Peter accepts this.

 

And Michelle is lost in the moment with him again.

 

* * *

 

Despite all of this, they hadn’t exactly had a conversation… it was a damn cliché, the ‘DTR’ but Michelle was wildly curious at what Peter thought of everything.

 

Clearly, he liked her. Liked her more than just someone to make out with.

 

She liked him back.

 

But they hadn’t had “the talk” yet.

 

It’s in these moments where Michelle wished she had more girlfriends.

 

Cause while they hadn’t had “the talk” yet, they also really hadn’t talked much at all – aside from the idle chatter between classes or banter at lunch with Ned.

 

Michelle felt closer to Peter than she had ever been – had literally, physically been closer to him than she ever could have dreamed – and yet she felt so distant from him, so far.

 

It was as if the closer they got physically, they more they were separated in every other way.

 

This new assignment, her writing actually getting chosen for a blurb on the Bugle – it wouldn’t even be on the front page or the fifth, likely on the _last_ page of the print edition, if it even made it there – but Michelle was still excited.

 

Because this was something she could talk to Peter about. And maybe, a good three weeks after they had changed into… whatever they were… maybe she could use this to finally _talk_ to him.

 

* * *

 

Michelle should’ve figured that her plans would never work.

 

There was never anything normal in a world where the Avengers or whatever still existed. With Thanos gone, Michelle would’ve thought the universe would’ve left well enough alone for at least six months.

 

But no. Clearly not.

 

Some wizard with a vendetta had started some kind of issue in Midtown, just a few blocks from where Michelle’s office at the Bugle was. By now, people in the city were used to the random fits of terror that seemed to arrive on any given Thursday. And yet Michelle couldn’t look away from those in her office who had stayed – those who hadn’t been snapped – and how they seemed to freeze just a little bit longer.

 

As if they were remembering another event not so long ago, when their world was turned upside down.

 

The world really needed therapy, but for now – they at least had a wizard.

 

Michelle watched passively as one wizard fought another – Doctor Strange, if her memory from Ned’s excitable chatter had told her anything. The office is evacuating, they’re on their way to a shelter that been put in place long before Thanos – right after the Battle of New York.

 

Michelle was fine. The wizards were moving away from where the office was, the evacuation probably not even necessary.

 

Johnson yelled at her to get away from the window.

 

In the second she goes to listen to him – something crashes through and Michelle is thrown backwards.

 

* * *

 

“What the hell?” Michelle moves quickly but carefully, glass everywhere from where the window had shattered. A thought occurs to her that the window _shouldn’t_ have shattered. That it would only take something, or someone, of incredible strength to break through them.

 

For a second, a wave of panic passes through her. Maybe she wasn’t as safe as she thought she was. But then she sees the blur of red and blue and that panic turns into anger.

 

“Ma’am, are you alright? Is everyone in here alright?” She could hear Peter’s voice clear as day. She puts a hand up over face, trying to get a good glimpse of him.

 

He was panicked, frightened but trying to stay calm. His head snaps to her, rushing over to pick her up.

 

“Are you alright, ma’am? Are you hurt? Is everything okay?”

 

Michelle would almost be touched if she wasn’t so furious.

 

Because here was Peter – was _Spider-Man_ – hovering over her in _The Daily Bugle’s office_ , a news site that hadn’t always been so kind to Spider-Man, and inserting himself into a news story and day he had no business being in.

 

Michelle knew Spider-Man’s schtick – knew that he was the first one to leap into danger and help whoever was needed. Her heart managed to feel like it was going to jump out of her throat anytime he did so, in the months before the snap, before Iron Man.

 

She had never wanted Spider-Man to get hurt. But now with Peter in the newsroom, with the _entire office staring at her_ , she felt like she could strangle him herself.

 

“We’re _fine_ , Spider-Man. Maybe you should get back to the fight?” Her voice is firm, tense. Peter seems to immediately sense that Michelle is not pleased, but tries – unsuccessfully – to play it off.

 

“Just trying to check on civilians, ma’am. Here let me help you up.” He goes to grab her before she can object, wringing her arm out of his hand.

 

“I’m _fine_ , Spider-Man. Thanks, now you can go.”

 

“Ma’am, I just want—”

 

“We’re fine. This is okay. Hands off – don’t you care about _consent_?” The venom in her voice is undeniable.

 

There’s a moment where Peter stops, the eyes in his mask widen.

 

This isn’t how Michelle had wanted this conversation to go. But she can tell that right here – in the middle of the damn newsroom – Peter could hear her loud and clear.

 

Michelle knows Peter is Spider-Man. And she’s pissed.

 

* * *

 

Peter leaves just as quickly as he came, waving a frantic goodbye to the rest of the office without looking at Michelle. She turns to Johnson.

 

“You got something you want to share with the class, Jones?”

 

“What do you mean?” He folds his arm, face skeptic.

 

“You wanna tell me why Spider-Man crash-landed through our window and made a beeline towards you?”

 

Michelle could feel the stares of the office around her. She can’t blame them, she’d be curious too.

 

She shrugs, a vestige of her old self finally showing up. “I don’t know, I don’t own the guy. He’s the one who knocked me back from his little parkour stunt, probably just checking to see if we’re okay.”

 

Johnson narrows his eyes at her, clearly disbelieving her. But the fight with the wizards is still ongoing, the office still needing to be evacuated. Michelle returns his steely gaze and then pushes past him towards the shelter.

 

The fight with the wizards may be what the office was preoccupied with, but Michelle was already thinking about the one she’d have with someone else.

 

* * *

 

“Meet me on the roof.”

 

She doesn’t explain what roof. Doesn’t care to clarify when. He could wait for her all night for all she could care. 

 

They had let them out of the shelter an hour after Peter had shown up, Doctor Strange and whoever else effectively ending the fight. Michelle didn’t care. She had another fight to prepare for.

 

As she waited on the roof her building, Michelle considered what exactly was her plan here.

 

Was she mad that Peter hadn’t told her he was Spider-Man? Sure. Yeah. Whatever. She wished he had been honest with her sooner. 

 

Mad that he had barged into the news room? Yeah. Completely. That was stupid.  _So stupid._ They were already out to get him and now they would never stop hounding  _her_. 

 

Or was she mad that they’d spent the past few weeks – blissful, ignorant, a dream – without once talking about the one thing they probably should’ve? Of this thing that was forming between them, and what it could mean?

 

Michelle doesn’t know. She doesn’t get the chance to decide further because from one moment to the next, Peter is there.

 

He lands softly on the roof, his mask seemingly scanning the area. It’s a covered roof, an alcove really. If anyone had seen Spider-Man swing this way, it was unlikely they could see him now.

 

“Nice to see you again, _Spider-Man._ ”

 

To his credit, he says nothing. He just takes off the mask.

 

Michelle isn’t prepared to see his face, had half-expected him to be just as angry, as hurt she was.

 

But he’s not.

 

Peter’s eyes are bloodshot, red – as if he’d been crying. Michelle is immediately disarmed, walks to him without thinking.

 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?” Her eyes scan him up and down, she puts his hands on his shoulders. Peter brings his hand to her own, a lost expression in his face.

 

“I’m sorry, MJ. I’m so sorry, I don’t know… I should’ve told you a long time ago.” Michelle shakes her head.

 

“What, tell me you were Spider-Man? Figured that out a long time ago, Parker. That’s not an issue.”

 

“But it is, it is Michelle – I should’ve told you. I—I’m sorry. I should’ve trusted you.” His voice cracks and Michelle is confused. All the fight, all the anger has left her. All she can think of is the broken boy in front of her – sweet, kind, beautiful and stupid boy – who seemed like he was a second away from breaking down.

 

“Hey, hey, Peter it’s okay. I’m not mad okay? I just…” She shakes her head. “I just didn’t want anyone to find out your identity. You know the Bugle’s not your biggest fan right?”

 

“I don’t care about the Bugle.”

 

Michelle’s face hardens.

 

“You _should_ Pete. Those guys are vultures. I mean, yeah I know I work for them and everything but seriously, they do _not_ like you and you jumping into a window not only puts a target on your back, it puts a target on mine.” She stops and takes a deep breath.

 

“I’m not mad that you made a mess of the office, Peter. I’m just really confused as to why. The fight was moving away from us, what were you thinking?” A broken, disbelieving expression passes across his face. Michelle is almost taken aback at how desperate is.

 

“Are you—are you serious right now? You don’t get it do you?”

 

Michelle doesn’t even get the chance to respond.

 

“You could’ve _died_ , Michelle. You could’ve _died_ and I just, I couldn’t – you were so close to everything. The minute I heard the news, I had to go. Doctor Strange was pissed that I was late, but I didn’t care because they were _right there_ , right where your office was and if you had died, if anything would’ve happened to you, I—” Peter’s shaking now, sobbing.

 

Michelle closes her eyes, overwhelmed with her stupidity.

 

 _Of course_ , Peter would be concerned. _Of course_ , his first thought would go towards the absolute worst thing, the worst idea imaginable.

 

Michelle had been fine – the office was evacuating and the wizards far enough way that the only damage to the Bugle had been Peter’s escapade.

 

But Peter hadn’t known that. And for a boy who had lost his parents, his uncle, his next father figure – of course he’d panic at the thought of losing Michelle too.

 

She’d be almost touched, if she still wasn’t slightly confused. She liked Peter, liked him a lot. But the way Peter shook, the way she had to hold him up – she wondered if she was really worth the number of tears he was spilling her.

 

And then it hits her.

 

Maybe she is, maybe he really does like her – maybe more than she ever could have dreamed.

 

But these tears are not for her. The agonizing breaths he's taking may be because of the thought of MIchelle dying - but they did not start there. 

 

Peter is still grieving. A part of Michelle wonders if really ever had. For anything. For any of it. 

 

She takes Peter into her arms, and just holds him. Lets him cry in her shoulder, his arms clinging to her as if she was the only thing in the world.

 

She’d been closer to Peter in the past few weeks than she had been in years, but it was this moment – right here on a hidden rooftop – where Michelle finally felt like Peter had let her in.

 

* * *

 

They stayed like that for what felt like an hour but couldn’t have been longer than twenty minutes. Michelle didn’t mind.

 

Michelle had never felt like a maternal person, per se. Knew it was such a cliché, for the hardass and loud-mouth to be so prickly with physical affection. But it’s who she was, at least for people she didn’t know.

 

She was kind to her little sister, physically affectionate with her parents. And now, with Peter – she tried to be that for him too.

 

She had softly whispered to him, encouraging things, murmured into his hair as she rubbed his back, caressed the back of his neck.

 

She felt as his grip on her started to slowly loosen, listened as his sobs started to subside. He was quiet now, still holding on to her.

 

“It’s going to be okay, Peter. Nothing is going to happen to me.”

 

“You don’t know that.” The way his voice cracks, even as he whispered, cuts through Michelle. But she can’t let him go there, not when she’s here with him. She breaks out of his embrace, knowing he’s letting her because of how strong he is. She takes his face into her hands.

 

Peter’s eyes are red, puffy. Michelle can see the snot and tears and sweat all over his face. And yet despite all of this, Michelle thinks she’s never seen a face more beautiful.

 

God, she was smitten with this boy wasn’t she?

 

“No, I don’t know that but you gotta listen to me, Peter. It’s going to be okay. No matter what happens, it’s going to be okay.”

 

She can see his lips tremble slightly before something passes through his eyes. She sees the shift in his eyes before his posture, as he starts to sit up.

 

“You’re right. It won’t. I won’t let it happen. Not again. Not to you.”

 

Michelle sighs. “Peter, listen—”

 

“No, MJ. I’m not doing this again.” He puts a hand to his face, steadying himself.

 

“I like you, I like you _so_ much. And that makes this – us – dangerous. Life has a way of just kicking me when I’m down and then some and I can’t—I won’t let that happen to you.” He puts his hand down, a fire back in his eyes.

 

“I _won’t_ let that happen to you.”

 

Michelle’s eyebrows furrow. “So…what? You’re breaking up with me? Before we even really started dating?”

 

Peter seems to consider this. Michelle is almost furious.

 

“Are you joking? Are you kidding me right now? We’re _not_ doing this, Parker. You don’t get to give me the best few weeks of my life to suddenly decide you’re _over_ it because of some misplaced god complex of wanting to protect me? Are you serious right now? No. We’re not doing this.” She goes to leave but Peter’s hand grabs her. She looks back down at him.

 

“I—I don’t want to break up. I just…” He loosens his grip, his voice shaking slightly.

 

“I just can’t lose you too.”

 

Michelle relents, takes her hand into his.

 

“You won’t, Peter. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

And as if the day had never happened, Peter and Michelle are intertwined.

 

* * *

 

Later, when they were both breathless and a little starry eyed, Peter makes a face that causes Michelle to laugh.

 

“What?”

 

“Just… thinking about something you said.” Michelle waits, unsure of where this particular conversation was going to go.

 

“And?”

 

“So… you’re saying these have been the _best_ few weeks of your life? Really? Cause I gotta say MJ, it’s a little lame that of all the weeks you’ve ever lived – it’s only the past few that are the best. Really, you need to get out more.”

 

Michelle laughs, then socks him in the arm. Peter playfully grabs his arm and grins.

 

“Say that again dork squad and you’ll be kissing your pillow again.”

 

“Whose to say I kissed my pillow before?”

 

“Right. Like I’m supposed to believe Peter Parker has ever kissed anyone before.”

 

“You’re right. I haven’t.”

 

His honesty shocks her but his eyes are steady.

 

“But if we’re in the mood for sharing things, you know… the past few weeks have been really great for me too. The best.... because of you.” Michelle gives a half-smile, curling up into his embrace.

 

As his arms wrap around her, Michelle burrows her head into the crook of his neck.

 

They may not have had the “define the relationship talk”, may still have a lot they need to work on with his guilt and his grief.

 

But right now, Michelle couldn’t imagine anywhere else she’d rather be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was long?? So much longer than I planned. 
> 
> Straight out the gate with the ANGST. I promise the other chapters won't be nearly as angsty (or as long). 
> 
> Peter's just trying his best™ - even if he messes up more often than not. Poor Michelle, she’s in for a wild ride with this boy


	2. Two.

“You look great, Michelle. Stop worrying about it.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Parker. Boys never have to worry about what they’re wearing to formal events.” She tried, and failed, to adjust the dress she was wearing, the shoes she had on already pinching her toes.

Michelle didn’t care much for contemporary fashion standards. Rarely wore makeup, didn’t care for heels or anything remotely uncomfortable.

People could take her or leave her. Plain and simple. Peter didn’t seem to mind either, looked at her like she held the damn moon and stars, even last week when she was sick with the flu.

But when Peter had invited her up to the Avengers place upstate- the newly renovated compound, for a housewarming of sorts – Michelle inexplicably felt like she had to dress up.

She wasn’t starstruck. Could care less about superheroes, especially when she was dating one.

But the idea of meeting the Avengers – the people that Peter considered to be part of his oddball family – was terrifying to Michelle.

She wanted to impress them. Wanted to show that she was worthy of dating Peter, even if Peter clearly didn’t need their approval.

They’d been dating for almost three months now – officially, at least. The conversation on that rooftop hadn’t led to any kind of actual conversation, but an understanding. Something that had solidified between the two of them.

Peter and Michelle were dating. They were a couple.

And now, even though she had known May for years, had been over at Peter’s apartment so much that it felt like a second home – as they walked into the Avengers Compound entryway, Michelle finally felt like she was actually going to “meet the parents.”

* * *

None of Peter’s declarations did anything to calm her nerves.

He wasn’t the first boyfriend she had ever had, but he was probably the nicest.

Peter looked at her like she was everything to him, like the sun shined out of her ass – always effusive with his praise and compliments. If it had been anyone else, Michelle would’ve popped them in the mouth, convinced that they were just flattering her for the sake of it.

But Peter – who was equal parts confident, kind, sweet, and endearing – seemed to mean every word of it.

Michelle wouldn’t complain about that.

Peter waved at some security guard, bouncing his way through the lobby as Michelle tried to steel her nerves. Being with Peter had a simultaneously grounding and unnerving effect on her.

On one hand, when she was with Peter – Michelle felt like she could take on the world. Like there was nothing she couldn’t do, nothing she couldn’t handle, as long as she had Peter by her side.

On the other, his complete and utter lack of self-awareness to understand why she was anxious – was it nerves? – for meeting the rest of his “team” was aggravating to her.

Michelle wasn’t exactly nervous about meeting the Avengers – she had a lot of opinions about superheroes that Peter had had to listen to more times than she could count. She just wondered if she would live up to the reputation that Peter had clearly built up about her.

She could feel Peter’s hand on her back, the warmth of hands radiating like a space heater. He rubbed his thumb across her back, a soothing gesture, as they walked into the elevator. She looked up at him as he smiled.

“They’re going to love you, MJ. I mean come on, who wouldn’t?”

“You know Parker, I’m really tired of your flattery tonight. You know damn well I don’t even like superheroes like that. I mean come on, the Avengers? Now? What – they can’t get real jobs?”

Peter laughs, rolling his eyes. They’d had this argument before.

“I know, I know, we’re all useless pawns of the government. Come on, keep an open mind.”

“It’s not that, Peter. I’m just wondering why exactly I have to go and meet them when they could easily come to meet me. I mean, what? Are they too good to hang out with common people anymore?”

She knows her jitteriness is manifesting into hostility, unwarranted and out of place. Peter knows this too – even if he can’t seem to understand the reason why she’s acting the way she is. He knows her well enough to know that this is just a way of lashing out when she’s uncomfortable.

They exit out of the elevator and walk towards a new lobby, crossing a walkway that had an impressive view. The space was open, wide, beautiful really. She may be nervous as hell, but even Michelle could admit that they certainly knew how to decorate a space.

“They’re not too good, MJ. It’s just a house-warming. Or, I guess a building warming. Think of it this way, Ned would probably kill to be here.”

Michelle scoffs. “You should’ve brought him instead. Sycophants for their cause is probably exactly what they're used to.”

Peter goes rigid, a look on his face that Michelle can’t place. “MJ…”

“And you know what? I’m tired, I’m tired of all of this. I mean, I know you and the rest of them did some crazy shit in space or whatever, but the world is pretty much still dealing with all of the crap they’ve done. Like, Iron Man is gone, Captain America is gone, and now what – we have the JV squad to watch over us? What the hell is a bird man with wings going to do? Fucking Iron Man is dead and you expect me to believe they can somehow replace him? Please. They’re all useless.”

“MJ.” Peter’s voice is low, a warning. But Michelle’s on a roll now, walking ahead of him. 

“I know you like them, Peter and you’d be a damn good one someday when you’re old enough to vote and whatever, but like – instead of inviting trouble, why don’t they try and solve it? The snap messed up a lot of people and there are a LOT of people still angry and hurt. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful I’m back and that you’re back and we exist and everything but also, it doesn’t make sense to me that I’m just supposed to be a hundred percent okay with whatever they do from now on. Especially when—”

“MJ!” Peter didn’t yell, but his tone was sharp enough that it causes Michelle to stop.

“What!?”

The door slides open and MJ turns.

There, in front of her – were the Avengers. Or, what was left of them anyway.

Falcon – the new Captain America. A guy with a metal arm. Hologram of a blue android looking woman. Scarlet Witch. The new Hulk.

They all seemed to look at her and then away, Michelle is confused for a half-second as to why.

And then the penny drops.

They had heard her. All of it. The damn walkway with its beautiful paneling and glass railings, and the sliding door which was clearly paper-thin – the acoustics of the place must’ve carried her diatribe from the elevator till she was right in front of the door.

A hologram of a raccoon stops in front of her. Salutes her.

“Nice to know terrans still like to speak their minds.”

Michelle is mortified.

* * *

Peter, the idiot – _her_ idiot – tries to save her.

But the minute he opens her mouth, Michelle can already tell he’s going to make it worse.

“Hey guys! How’s it going? How’s the food? Did we need to bring anything? You know, I’m pretty sure we saw a 7/11 on the way up, we can definitely go, swing by and pick something up, then come back? Haha swing, get it cause I’m Spider-Man? Anyway, yeah we can totally leave and then just come back, right MJ? Let’s go, we’ll be right back guys.”

Peter’s chattering is the only sound in the room, Michelle watching in silent horror as the remaining Avengers give each other side glances without saying a word. Even the hologram looking things seemed uncomfortable, if that was even possible. Were they even here? Michelle doesn't know.

Peter’s damn mouth keeps going and while Michelle never considered herself one to be a fan of the Avengers, she’s a little surprised at how awe inspiring being in the same room is.

I mean, she’s still not a _fan_ of them per se, nor does she even really care about celebrities or heroes beyond the dork who won’t shut up beside her but still – these are the Avengers.

They _did_ save the world more times than she could count, and while she didn’t agree with their methods half the time or even agreed with them as a concept, philosophically – there was something almost intimidating being in the same room as them.

That, and the fact that she had called them useless almost to their face, made Michelle’s skin crawl.

It’s not till a minute or so has passed, when Peter has _still not stopped talking_ , that Michelle realizes that if she put herself into this mess, she’ll have to take herself out of it.

“Shut up, Peter.” She doesn’t mean to be so sharp, she gets a look almost akin to disappointment from Falcon – Captain America? Fuck, she wished she paid better attention to Ned’s ramblings – but she needs Peter to _stop talking_.

Peter immediately listens, his eyes widening as he looks back to her.

“So…” She glares at him, his mouth closing before he can say anything else that will make Michelle feel like shit.

“Sorry. I just like to speak my mind. Didn’t mean to offend you guys, or whatever.”

The guy with the metal arm shrugs, puts his hand – his actual hand – out and says, “We’ve all said worse to each other. Hey, I’m Bucky.”

She takes it, willing herself look at his eyes and not the metal appendage but he grins, glancing over to it before saying, “Yeah, it takes some getting used to.”

“What? Seeing your ugly mug every day? Believe me kid – there’s nothing that’ll make you used to that. Shit, I agree – you’re useless and a waste of government tax dollars.” The Falcon guy walks up, extending his own hand.

“Sam Wilson. Bird man extraordinaire.” Michelle cringes as she shakes his hand.

“I’m…”

“Michelle didn’t mean it! Didn’t mean any of it! She’s just… nervous, you know?” Peter almost yells the words, causing both Michelle and Sam to look at him with equal parts shock and horror.

Shock cause his voice went up two octaves. Horror, on Michelle’s part, because while she had put her foot in her mouth, they were clearly trying to smooth it over and Peter – the idiot – was just making it even worse.

“Peter, stop.”

“No, no guys like really. I mean, Michelle is awesome, and I know you guys will love her. It’s just been a really long day and she’s always been really honest, which is one of the things I like best about her and—”

“Peter, take a minute to breathe. Your girlfriend’s a badass, we get it.” The Hulk’s voice is calm, even. Michelle’s still not used to seeing the Hulk… not as Hulk like. Or wearing clothes.

But right now, all she feels is grateful because his comment immediately makes Peter shut up again.

 “Don’t worry, Michelle. We have asked ourselves the same questions that you yourself ask.” Scarlet Witch’s voice is kind as she smiles. Michelle knows on some level she should probably be scared of the woman, but the warmth in her eyes immediately sets her at ease.

At least until Peter opens up his damn mouth again.

“She is. She really is, the best – I mean. And a badass, total badass. Smart. Funny too. Really, you guys should talk to her.”

Michelle is sure she is going to strangle him. She’ll kill him. Right here. Right now. She’ll go to jail. It’ll be fine. She doesn’t care.

“Can I use the bathroom?” Michelle asks, cutting Peter off again before he makes a bad situation even worse.

Sam nods, points her in the direction of the bathroom and Michelle moves in that direction. Peter goes to follow before Michelle turns.

“Bathroom, Peter. I can handle that on my own.” His cheeks flush.

“Oh.. yeah, I mean. I know, I was just—I just wanted to try—”

“You’ve done enough.” Michelle’s lips press firmly together, turning towards the general direction of where the bathroom was supposed to be. She sees Peter’s face – shocked and a little hurt at her tone – but Michelle’s beyond the point of caring.

She’s embarrassed, but she could’ve handled it. Could’ve saved it.

Why couldn’t Peter just leave well enough alone?

* * *

She doesn’t find the bathroom, but she does find a balcony.

A part of her wonders if Sam knew that she didn’t really need to go, had only wanted a moment alone.

She’s still not a fan of the Avengers but the bird dude? She’d have to thank him later for that.

She puts her arms on the railing, resting her head down over her forearms.

This night could not have gone worse.

All she wanted to do was to make a good impression, to make the Avengers see why she was a good fit for Peter.

She may not care about them, care about whether or not they were actually doing good in the world – but Peter did.

Peter was one of them. Or, would be one of them – someday. He was a hero.

And if his hero co-workers didn’t approve of her, then what future did her and Peter really have?

She couldn't get Tony Stark's approval, the only one here that Peter had idolized the most. But the rest of these... Avengers, if that's what they were going to keep calling themselves - they'd all seemed to take Peter under their wing. 

Peter may not have Tony Stark anymore, but he'd seemed to have inherited a whole other family anyway. 

They seemed nice enough, Michelle thought – even after she criticized pretty much every aspect of their existence. But she wondered how much of it had been a façade, a way to save face in front of Peter while she was there.

And then Peter was only making it worse, making it like Michelle was even more inept and stupid as she felt in this moment.

She hadn’t meant to yell at him or to make him feel stupid. She just couldn’t help it.

She was mortified, and Peter wasn’t helping matters any.

* * *

Michelle is out there for a few minutes, not long, before she hears the telltale footsteps of her lovable dork.

Michelle sighs. He was probably coming to apologize, going to try and make up for something that wasn’t even his fault to begin with.

As soon as she turns to him, sees the look on his face, she knows she’s exactly right.

“MJ, I’m—”

“Don’t say your sorry, Parker. I mean it, or I’ll break up with you.”

This strikes Peter, his eye’s widening as he stops and puts his hands up.

“Uh… okay. So… I’m _not_ sorry?”

Michelle rolls her eyes.

“It’s—no, don’t do that. I’m saying, you don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the idiot here.”

Peter’s eyes twitch before he says, “Wait what?”

“You just wanted to introduce me to your people, your little co-worker gang or whatever and here I am – making it worse. I’m sorry, Peter. I didn’t mean to make you look bad.”

Peter laughs, the sound sharp in Michelle’s ears.

“Make _me_ look bad? MJ, I’m the one who should be apologizing here.”

“Don’t, Parker. That’s not how this is going to go down alright? You didn’t do anything wrong?” Peter shakes his head.

“No, no I did. I shouldn’t have pushed you to come, Michelle. You made it clear – all week – that you were uncomfortable with… this.” He waves his hand, gesturing to the compound.

“I know how you feel about the Avengers, know that you don’t like being put in situations where you’ll be uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have pushed for this, not now.”

Michelle sighs. “Peter, that’s not it. I just…” She closes her eyes, taking a moment.

Peter waits. God, he was so patient with her.

“I just didn’t them to think badly of me. You know? I mean…” Michelle’s eyes go everywhere except for looking at Peter, turning her body back towards the railing. “You’re a hero, Peter. And I’m just a nobody. I didn’t… I just wanted them to like me.”

The admission makes Michelle feel small, more vulnerable than she’d felt in years. She’s not sure what she’s expecting, but feeling Peter extend his arm over her, his body heat radiating next to her, warms her from the inside out.

“You could never embarrass me, Michelle. Never. You have to know that.” He whispers in her ear, rubbing her back gently.

Michelle closes her eyes, leaning into his embrace.

“And you’re not a nobody. I don’t even know how you could say that. You’re Michelle Jones, the best in our class. Probably the smartest person I know.” He stops.

“Don’t tell Ned.”

Michelle laughs, a small part of her feeling lighter than she has all night. She turns to look at him, their faces so close that their noses are almost touching.

Peter is looking at her like he always does, as if she’s hung the moon, the stars, all the planets in the galaxy. A surge of something almost like love flows through Michelle, amazed that a boy like Peter could see her – insecure and confident, loud-mouth and stubborn– and think she was worthy enough of even being around him.

A small part of her wonders if maybe Peter feels the same way. They way he looks at her, Michelle thinks maybe Peter believes _he's_ the lucky one. She pushes that out of her mind, knowing that there was no way Peter Parker could ever feel that way. He liked her sure, but Michelle was sure that she liked him more -  _had_ liked him for years. 

“I’m sorry I made it awkward tonight.” She rolls her eyes.

“I told you if you apologized that I would break up with you.”

“Oh no. What have I done? What will we tell Ned?” Peter deadpans. Michelle grins.

“You know he’ll want you on weekends, but he’ll have to stick with me during the week?”

Peter’s eyebrows quirk. “He was _my_ best friend first. I think I should get custody during the week.”

Michelle shrugs. “Sure, but he likes me better.”

“Fair.”

Michelle smiles, leaning in to close the gap between them.

She wasn’t going to break up with Peter tonight. Wasn’t planning on breaking up with him ever.

As the stars twinkled up ahead of them, Michelle feels herself let go.

She still may feel like Peter could do better than her.

But she’s convinced that she’ll never find another boy like Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised that there would be fluff and I am nothing if not a woman of my word!! Michelle sweetie, Peter adores you and you don't even know it! Ugh, I love them. I love Peter & MJ so much. And the random Avengers that are left over. Does anyone even know what they're going to be like - now with Tony gone? IDK. 
> 
> Irondad angst in the next one. Be ready. <3


	3. Three.

Michelle should’ve known better than to walk home by herself at night.

She’s taken self-defense classes, has enough mace to take down a small bull.

But really, it just had been a long day.

Michelle was tired. Johnson giving her crap again about some bullshit typo that wasn’t even there until magically, it was. Her co-worker had talked non-stop about whatever tv show had played the night before and Michelle was just tired of it.

She should’ve been more aware, should’ve kept an eye out. But she didn’t.

She’s completely blindsided when the guy with the gun comes up behind her, a chill running down her spine as an unknown arm throws itself over her neck.

“Give me your wallet.”

“How about you put that gun away and I’ll consider not calling the cops on you, asshole.” Michelle can feel the gun burrow into her back. She rolls her eyes.

She should probably be more scared, be more concerned with the fact that some maniac is holding her up at gunpoint.

But Michelle grew up in New York. In a city and a world where aliens, and magical beings, and enhanced superfreaks ran around the city.

Considering she was dating one of those freaks, really – Michelle was so over a run of the mill robbery. She’d had enough of a shit day to begin with.

“Fine. Can I grab it out of my purse or you just gonna wait for me to magically take it out for you?”

The guy considers it for a moment before loosening his grip. The movement is all she needs to take him down.

She barrels her leg down to his groin, his toes, pulls her elbow back into his gut. He swears, going to point his gun towards her, when she elbows him into the jaw.

“What the—you bitch!”

“Say that again and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” She’s grabbed her mace from her keys, spraying it directly in his eyes. The guy screams drop the gun away from her. It fires before she can stop it but misses her entirely.

Unfortunately, Peter doesn’t seem to know that.

Because one minute she’s spraying half a can of mace into a guy’s eyes and the next she’s swinging, off her feet and launched in the air. She sees out of the corner of her eye some webbing that sticks the guy to the floor, whips her head around to see Peter.

His grip on her is firm, but steady and yet Michelle can’t help but feel a little nauseous as they swing away from the alleyway.

“Peter, I’m—”

“MJ, don’t.”

She rolls her eyes at his tone but doesn’t push it further. It takes all that’s within her not to throw up as he makes a sharp turn, landing on the roof of some building three blocks down. She stumbles out of his arms and tries to rearrange her clothing.

“I’m fine, Peter. I had it handled.”

“Handled? Did you not hear the gun that went off?” Peter’s indignant, but his mask’s still on. She could see the eyes of his mask twitch, if you could say that about mechanical eyes, and could only imagine the eyes of the boy underneath them.

“Yeah, the gun that fell out of his hands. Because he was down. Because I got him. And wait – how did you even know what was going on? Were you following me?”

Peter groans, throwing his hands up.

“It’s like you don’t even—MJ look, you can’t just keep walking by yourself late at night. Isn’t there some other shift you can take, some other route that doesn’t put you right in the line of jerks like him?”

Michelle shakes her head, in disbelief as much as annoyance. “No, Peter. It’s an internship, not a full-time job. I don’t just get to tell my boss when and how I’m going to come in. Besides, it’s fine. I had it covered.”

“He had a gun on you, Michelle.”

“Yeah, and then he didn’t. I took him down.”

“You can’t—you can’t just argue yourself out of this one! You could’ve been shot! You could’ve—”

“Yeah, yeah died – I know. So you tell me. So you always tell me. But I didn’t, Peter. I’m fine, I know how to handle myself. Have you forgotten that I’ve lived in this city longer than you have?”

She can see Peter’s hands clench.

“You haven’t seen the things I have, MJ.”

She lets out a deep breath and wills herself to calm down. No. She hasn’t seen what Peter has.

* * *

She knew that Peter hadn’t always lived in the city. Knew that he’d moved here when he was in elementary school, after living a white picket fence kind of life upstate.

His parents had died in a car accident, Peter had been in the car. She remembered thinking how terrible that had to have been for him when she first met him.

And then Peter’s uncle had died, three years ago. From a robbery. At gun point.

A trip to space. A battle upstate. Peter had lost more than Michelle could’ve ever dreamed.

Michelle can’t blame him for his caution.

But she can blame him for not trusting that she couldn’t handle herself.

* * *

“Peter, you cannot keep following me around. I’m not a porcelain doll, I know how to take care of myself.”

Peter’s fists are still clenched, arms firmly in place at his sides.

“I’m not saying that, I know you can take care of yourself MJ. I just… want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am. I’m fine. Stop following me okay?” It’s tense for a moment, but then she sees Peter relent.

“Fine.”

“Wait that’s it?” Peter quirks his head toward her, the movement made funnier because of the way the eyes of his mask move.

“You want me to argue with you about this?”

“No, I just—I don’t know. Didn’t expect you to give up so quickly.”

“I’m not giving up, I’m just…” Peter trails off, and then the octave of his voice changes.

“I just want you to be alright, sweetie.” Michelle groans, eyes rolling as Peter laughs.

“You’re never going let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

“Fine. Get me off this roof, loser.” He laughs, grabbing her by the waist as his hand flicks out.

* * *

It’s an old joke, back from almost a year ago. Before the snap, before the world had turned upside down, before Peter had known that Michelle knew he was Spider-Man.

Her and Peter had been in the library, strategizing what they were going to do beat Bronx High in the next decathlon, when one of the librarians had come up and asked if Michelle needed anything.

“Uh… no? I’m good, thanks.” The lady seemed unbothered.

“Oh, I’m just checking on you sweetheart. You know that nice young man over there had mentioned that you weren’t feeling too well, so I just wanted to come by and see for myself.” Michelle’s look of confusion is redirected from the librarian, to the one she was pointing.

Flash Thompson. Dickwad, smirking like he’s the funniest damn kid on the planet.

“Uh, I don’t know what he’s told you, but I promise, I’m fine.”

The lady looks pointedly at Peter, and then back to her.

“I just want you to be alright, sweetie. You know, if you’re ever uncomfortable, you can always speak to anyone on staff, you know that right?”

Michelle inwardly groans. Of course, Flash, the idiot, would try and insinuate something was amiss with their little meeting – probably pissed off that she had chosen Peter as alternate captain.

Sure, a part of Michelle argued that it was blatant favoritism – a side effect of her undeniable and deeply embarrassing crush on Peter Parker.

But Peter was also smart, smarter than Flash could ever dream of being. Maybe even smarter than she was… though she’d never admit that to him – or anyone, for that matter.

Plus, Flash was an ass, and there was no way she was going to give him any power. Of course, he’d try and retaliate by making their first meeting as a leadership team awkward as hell. She grits her teeth.

“I’m fine, ma’am. Promise. Don’t know who you’ve been listening to, but I can promise – you have nothing to worry about.”

The librarian glares at Peter – his face struck in utter confusion – before glancing back at Michelle and nodding.

“Well, alright.”

With that, she turns but not before she gives Flash a death glare. She shoots him the finger as Peter pipes up.

“What was that all about?”

“Absolutely nothing.” She deadpans, ensuring that Flash can read her lips. She turns back to Peter.

“Let’s get back to work.”

* * *

It was a joke now, had been ever since they had left the library, when Peter had pestered her to know more about what had happened and she’d finally relented.

They’d looped Ned into it and now it was a thing, a catchphrase whenever the tension got too awkward or a situation starting becoming too uncomfortably close to something real.

Michelle shouldn’t have been surprised that Peter would bring it up again, all things considered.

Seeing Michelle in a dark alley, held up at gunpoint, had probably drawn up some of Peter’s worse memories.

A joke seemed to be the best way to chase that memory away.

Michelle wasn’t going to argue with him.

* * *

He lands on the rooftop of her building, just as quietly as he always had.

“Thanks for the lift, Spider-Man.”

She can’t see his smile under his mask, but she hears it in his voice.

“Anytime, ma’am.” He turns as if he’s going to swing away but before he can, she stops him. He waits, Michelle giving a quick look to make sure no one was outside.

She goes to lift the edge of Peter’s mask and Peter – clearly able to stop her but not – just waits. She kisses him, quick but warmly enough that it sends shivers down his back. She drops the mask back over his mouth.

“What was that for?”

“Really, Peter? We’ve been dating for six months now. You really need me to spell out a goodnight kiss for you?”

Peter glances towards the edge of the building, walking further into the alcove before taking his mask off. Michelle sighs. This was becoming a bad habit – him unmasking on her rooftop.

“I just… I thought you’d still be mad.”

“Oh I am. Pissed, really. But clearly you’re incapable of thinking that I can handle myself, so I’ve just given up on it.”

Peter rolls his eyes.

“I know you can handle yourself, Michelle.”

“Then?”

He’s quiet, biting his lip as he looks in another direction. Michelle folds her arms, waiting impatiently.

“Did I ever tell you about how my uncle died?”

Michelle’s back straightens, stricken with the pain in his voice, how small it had gotten. She slowly unfurls her arms.

“No, but… I know.” His head snaps up.

“Ned. And the news… you know. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

Peter nods, almost absentmindedly.

“Yeah that’s… not much of a secret huh?”

Michelle waits, hoping that he’ll go on.

They’d gotten a lot better at communicating, ever since that first day on the roof – even more so after that awkward night at the Avengers Compound.

Peter was a chatterbox, incessantly going on about whatever new idea popped into his head. But when it came to stuff like this – his grief, his guilt, the unwarranted and completely undeserved burden to save the world that he felt on his shoulders – Michelle knew better than to push him on it.

She wanted him to share these things with her, wanted him to feel comfortable with her – and he did, mostly.

He just needed the time – and patience – to express it.

“I know you can take yourself, Michelle. I know that. I know you’re not… porcelain or whatever.” He scratches the back of his neck, a tic that Michelle recognizes. Peter’s about to share something vulnerable with her. She closes the distance between them just a little.

“Ever since my parents… Ben… _Tony_ …” Peter’s voice cracks, an ache pulling at Michelle’s heart.

“I—” He takes a breath to steady himself, his chin already trembling.

“Every time you go out at night, walking by yourself, it’s like I know that you can handle yourself… I know you’ve taken self-defense and know how to get yourself out of more problems than I probably ever could. It just…” Michelle puts a hand up to his face.

“You don’t have to explain, Peter. I know. I get it.”

His head tilts into her embrace, putting his own hand over hers. His eyes search hers, blazing with pain, hurt, and desire.

He blinks a few times and then straightens his back.

“No… I want to.”

Wordlessly, he takes her hand into his and leads her to the corner of the alcove, sitting on the grimy rooftop floor. Michelle is inwardly disgusted at the thought of sitting on the roof, but she pushes it away, settling down right next to Peter, their elbows and knees touching.

She’s noticed that Peter likes physical affection – not just the usual stuff, but the closeness. Being physically present. The feel of her, being close enough that she could feel his body heat, where he can almost feel her pulse.

Michelle hasn’t asked him why, wonders if Peter had always been this way and she just hadn’t noticed. There’s a part of her that thinks that maybe it’s not some deeper psychological thing, that maybe Peter is just a seventeen-year old boy that wants to be closer to his girlfriend.

Another part of her knows that with Peter, it’s never just that simple.

She waits in the dark as he breathes, steadily – trying to calm himself. She squeezes his hand and he returns it, the pressure and warmth of his hand comforting. Michelle knows Peter is strong, could lift a bus over his head without breaking a sweat, and yet somehow – she never feels anything less than safe in his hands. His touch was always gentle.

“Tony used to say that I probably had a guilt complex bigger than his.”

Michelle goes still.

Peter hadn’t talked a lot about Tony Stark, not in a long time. He used to refer to him as Mr. Stark, before the snap – before everything.

It’s jarring – hearing him talk about him, hearing him refer to Tony Stark so personally. She knows they were close, Ned filling in the barest of details after he’d learned that she knew the truth about Peter’s side job.

And yet, the pain in his voice, the emotion she can feel simmering under the surface, Michelle wonders if even Ned knew how close Peter and Tony Stark had been.

“It’s not guilt, I’m not guilty, MJ. I know what survivor’s guilt feels like. This isn’t it.” He looks at her, eyes glistening.

“I saw him _die_ , MJ. All of them, died. Right in front of me. And I couldn’t _do_ anything.” His voice cracks and Michelle’s heart breaks. But he continues.

“I barely remember the accident with my mom and dad…” His face turns outward, getting lost in some memory. “I remember the sounds of the tires, the smell of rubber burning. My mom’s scream.” He puts his head down.

“Not much after that though. I think I blacked out. Maybe blocking it out, I don’t know.”

Michelle’s not sure of what to say, feels completely out of her depth. So she just waits, keeping her hand intertwined with Peter’s. He looks back at her.

“But with Ben… with Tony… I was _there_. I watched them, both of them as they died.”

“I couldn’t save Ben, I should’ve. I could’ve…” Peter’s eyes close and he sighs.

“I couldn’t save, Tony.” His eyes snap open, tears silently falling down his cheeks as he turns to Michelle.

“But I can save you Michelle. I have to. I have to be there for you. I can't just sit back and watch you go off at night and just believe that you’ll be okay.” He turns completely towards her now, almost leaning into her.

“Promise me you’ll be more careful, Michelle. Please. Just promise me, that you’ll take better care of yourself.”

A thousand arguments pop into her head, a thousand statistics of what it was like to live in a city of millions, to be a woman who worked late and walked alone. But Michelle just pushes them out of her head and nods, putting an arm around Peter’s – locking them into a semi-embrace.

“I promise, Pete.”

He puts his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he does. Michelle closes her eyes too, heart breaking as she hears Peter’s next whisper.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you too.”

* * *

They sit there for a few more minutes, only moving when Michelle’s phone buzzes – a reminder that her curfew was in thirty minutes. Peter lifts her up, walks her to her apartment’s stairway entrance.

She hugs him tightly before he leaves, Peter returning the embrace. They don’t speak – knowing that neither of them has to. She gives him a soft kiss and then he’s off, swinging to another building.

As she walked back to her apartment, already knowing that while Peter may have swung away, that he wouldn’t leave until he could see her pass through her bedroom window – she decided something within herself.

Peter was dealing with a lot more in his life than he would share. He’d been vulnerable with her tonight, had bared just the smallest part of his soul. Michelle didn’t take that lightly. But there was more to it than that, more that Peter carried with him on a daily basis.

Michelle may not know what it was like to lose a parent, to lose anyone really. For someone who looked as if he was only ever goodness and light, Michelle never let herself forget that Peter’s life had been marked with darkness long before she had met him.

She leaned on her windowpane, watching as Peter – noticing she was back in her room, safe and sound, leapt from his perch on the building across from hers and swung away.

Michelle decided that while she couldn’t chase away the bad things for Peter, could never chase away the memories of the ones that he had loved, that he’d lost, that haunted him – she could be there. She would always be there.

And, she remembers, she needed to refill her mace.

Michelle sighs.

It really had been a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate the trope where the SO acts unreasonable or that the superhero is overprotective without explaining why - it's bland and uninspiring for me so in this house, we love (1) couple who understands the value of communication and are mature enough to actually deal with it.
> 
> Peter is going through SO much, ugh it's heart-wrenching. Even if Michelle doesn't know the depth of his pain, I'm glad that they have each other to walk through it. 
> 
> Finally finished my 'It's Quiet Uptown' series so if you're interested in a good cry, click [here](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1345588). 
> 
> Otherwise, come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://seek-rest.tumblr.com)!


	4. Four.

“You know, for someone so smart, you really are incredibly stupid. You know that, Peter? Stupid. Absolutely stupid.”

Peter seems unbothered by her proclamation, carefully and calmly extracting himself from her embrace.

“I’d like to think of it as responsible.” Michelle feels herself wanting to pout, then stops herself because she’s not a damn idiot.

Frustrated as hell at her boyfriend? Sure. But if anyone’s being the idiot here, it’s Peter.

It was their third night in a row hanging out. Third night in a row, pushing their boundaries for how far they could go. Well, at least Michelle was pushing boundaries.

Peter was pulling back. Every time.

Michelle groans, pulling her shirt down. Considering the impetus of their actual relationship had revolved around the whole concept of consent, she wasn’t about to be the pushy girlfriend – forcing her boyfriend into doing something he didn’t want to do.

She had listened to the seminars. Michelle wasn’t trying to make Peter uncomfortable.

The most frustrating part was that Peter _didn’t_ seem to be uncomfortable with the way their nights progressed. But each time, something would stop him – hold him back.

While they’d gotten a lot better at communicating, there were still things that tripped the two of them up.

Their sex life – or lack thereof – being conversation number one.

“Fine. Just take me home, Parker.” She gets off his bed, being mindful not to make noise before remembering that Peter’s aunt was still out – had gone out with some of her friends for “girls’ night out”.

They had the apartment to themselves. It really was the perfect plan. But as Peter put a shirt back on and opened his bedroom door, Michelle sighed.

Perfect or not.

Michelle wasn’t getting any tonight.

* * *

Michelle didn’t need Peter to walk her home. Was perfectly capable of making it home on her own. But after their last conversation about this very topic, Michelle just accepted that whether she wanted it or not, Peter would insist on watching out for her.

“You know, if someone sees you change into your little onesie, that’s gonna be on you.” She smirks, side-stepping into the alley as Peter follows after her.

“It’s _not_ a onesie. That’s it, I’m not letting Ned tell you anymore stories.”

“Whatever, nerd. Get in the alley before someone sees you in that thing.” He darts in after her, Michelle sighing at the night’s events.

She had snuck out of her bedroom to hang out with Peter, enticed by his text to hang out – knowing that May would be out for the night.

She should’ve guessed it wouldn’t have gone any further than it had. As Peter scrambles to change behind a dumpster – he’d walked here with her but was planning on patrolling on the way home – Michelle wonders what exactly had gotten into her.

Her fling freshman year had been a lot of fun, but they hadn’t exactly gone much further than her and Peter had. Her middle school relationship had been exactly that – a 7th grade nightmare of a decision with a boy for three weeks. But something about being with Peter – something _about_ Peter – made Michelle want to abandon any semblance of her sanity.

After the first few dizzying weeks of being with Peter, seemingly unable to keep their hands off each other, things had noticeably cooled down – or at least, in Michelle’s perspective they had.

Peter – fully dressed now, extends his hand to takes her into his arms to deliver her back to the damn roof once again. As she wraps her own arms tightly around him, she wishes she could channel her confidence into having another conversation about it. They had tried once – just a week ago – but the conversation, like their sex life, hadn’t led to anything further.

Michelle knows that she shouldn’t be upset that her boyfriend – kind and sweet and too good for her Peter Parker – wanted everything to be so damn special.

* * *

“It’s not a race, Michelle.”

It’s also not a damn shuffleboard match.”

He wrinkles his nose in confusion, but she just waves it away. “Something my grandma would say. Which, at the rate we’re going, I’ll be my grandma’s age before you see me naked. Come on Peter, I think we’re ready here.”

Peter blanches but quickly recovers “Okay first off, you just mentioned your grandma and then immediately jump to wanting to take off your clothes. I think there’s something wrong with this picture.” Michelle groans, frustrated. She pushes herself into a sitting position, Peter backing up as well.

She should be thankful that Peter was wanting to take things slow. She’d heard enough from her friends of partners who seemed to care less about what the other wanted, knows that she has a good thing with Peter.

But she was also a seventeen-year-old girl, one with raging hormones and a boyfriend with abs as hard as steel. Could Peter really blame her?

“You were the one who kissed me first. You were the one who started all of this six months ago.” Peter laughed. “Yeah I don’t know what came over me.”

Michelle gives him a look. His ears redden. Really, the jokes wrote themselves.

“Anyway,” Peter continues, clearly trying to escape the smartass comment Michelle was already forming in her head, “I just think we should take things slow, is all.”

Michelle gives him a look.

“How much slower can we get Parker? Snails work faster than we do.”

“Snails are actually hermaphrodites and their reproductive cycle is entirely different than our own so, I’m not sure where you’re planning on going with this conversation.” Michelle punches his arm and he just laughs.

“Come on Michelle, can’t we just…” Peter looks at his hands, twiddling his thumbs. She almost starts to feel bad, wondering if their conversation revolved around something deeper for Peter.

But her own insecurity stops her from getting that far.

“It’s fine, Parker. Whatever. I’ll drop it.” Peter’s head snaps up, a look of confusion on his face. Michelle’s tone has an edge to it, even though she had tried to stop it.

“You know it’s not that I don’t want to.”

“No, I _don’t_ know that Peter.” Michelle says, before she can stop herself – her voice wobbling a bit. It’s an old, deep insecurity, one that their conversation on the balcony still hadn’t soothed.

She knows Peter likes her, knows that Peter thinks the world of her in ways that she can only barely comprehend, but the idea that Peter doesn’t – won’t – get any closer to her physically pangs her in such a deep and hurtful way.

Michelle knows that logically – rationally – that there is absolutely no rush. The world could end tomorrow sure, especially with Peter’s side gig, but aside from that – they were just two seventeen-year old kids. They had their whole lives – Michelle felt giddy at the thought, a whole _life_ with Peter Parker – to have all the sex they wanted.  

Her parents had always encouraged her to be safe, be smart. She’d been on birth control since she was thirteen for her acne, was well aware of the risks of having sex before you were ready.

But Michelle felt that she _was_ ready, or at least – she was ready to be with Peter. And something pained her, in the deepest part of her gut, that Peter wasn’t willing to there with her. Maybe it was in her head – she knew it had to be in her head – but there was a part of her that feared that it wasn’t just that Peter wasn’t ready to have sex, but that he didn’t _want_ to – not with her.

Peter, seemingly sensing her unease, brings his arm around her – something that has an immediate effect on Michelle. His arm weighs on her, in a good way, stabilizing her as she tries to hold back the sob threatening to break out.

“Hey, hey… what’s wrong?” Michelle’s eyes start to glisten, a million words and thoughts and fears running through her mind. The only thing that comes out though is, “Nothing. It’s nothing.” He takes her hand into his and brings her face to look at his.

“It’s not nothing, Michelle. What’s wrong? You really think I don’t… _want_ you?” His ears are still burning red, but his eyes are clear – staring right into hers.

Michelle grits her teeth, willing any traitorous tears back into her tear ducts where they belong. She doesn’t say anything, but her silence seems to answer his question. He laughs, a look of hurt crossing over Michelle’s face before she can stop it. Peter catches this and tries to amend.

“No.. no Michelle, don’t you get it? You think I’m stopping us from going any further because I _don’t_ want you? Are you kidding? Michelle, I’ve thought of nothing else for the past six months.”

He puts a hand through his hair and Michelle is bewildered. Why the fu—

“I know, I know... so what's the hold up?” Michelle should be used to him being able to seemingly read his mind by now. His hands meet hers, his eyes as steady and as clear as his voice.

“Trust me, Michelle. It has absolutely nothing to do with you. _Nothing_ , you hear me? It’s ridiculous really, I can’t believe you’d think I could ever _not_ want to be with you.”

Michelle doesn’t know if she believes him, but he continues. “I just… there’s a part of me that thinks we should just… wait is all. I mean…” A look passes over his face. “Tony always said that when it matters, you should be sure.”

It’s Michelle’s turn to laugh.

“Excuse me... WHAT? You’re saying that Tony Stark – the man who is known for sleeping his way through the West Coast before he managed to snag Pepper Potts – was an advocate for _abstinence_?”

Peter grins, a sad smile on his face. “No, Michelle I’m not saying that.”

“So, what you’re saying he gave you the sex talk? Didn’t you meet him when you were fifteen? I mean, I know you’re inexperienced and all but even that’s a bit late, Parker.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Michelle will you just listen to me?”

She does. He smiles as he holds her hand, but his tone is solemn.

“He didn’t give me the sex talk or anything, believe me – I never wanted to hear about that from him.” He shudders before continuing, “But he used to talk about how he’d meet all these people, get so close to them, and it would just mean nothing.”

She goes to say something, but the next words are out of his mouth before she can. “And I know, as long as its consensual, then it doesn’t really matter. Sex doesn’t always have to be a big deal.” He looks up at her.

“But to me… it is. Ben and May... when they talked to me about it, they always said how it was a personal decision you know? That for some people, it really doesn't matter but for them, it had. They weren't each other's first or anything but like... when they did finally take that step together… it was like… fate you know? Something special."

He takes a moment before continuing. "Tony said once that meeting Pepper, loving her, felt like he was finally coming home. And that while he didn’t regret his past experiences per se, he just…” Peter sighed, the sadness in his voice never far away when he spoke about Tony Stark.

“I don’t know. It was nothing he ever really said, it was just the feeling you know? The feeling that once you make that leap, there’s no going back.”

Michelle waits, simultaneously feeling a little confused but also… understanding.

“So… you’re worried things will be different for us?” Peter shrugs.

“I mean, I hope they would. I know they would, and I’d like to think it’d be a really good thing. That we would be really good.” He grins.

“You better wipe that smirk off your face, Parker. I’ve changed my mind. I’m celibate. Joining a nunnery. Call Ned up, ask me to hook him up with his aunt’s parish or whatever.” Peter laughs.

“I’m just saying… our first time? I don’t know. I don’t want it to be something that we did in a hurry, something that we just jumped into because May isn’t home, or your parents are out or whatever.” He adjusts himself to look straight at Michelle, his gaze warming her from the inside out.

“I want us to make love, Michelle. Not just have sex. And I don’t know, I think that’s worth waiting for. The perfect first time.”

“No one’s first time is perfect, Peter.”

He shrugs. “Sure. I know that.” His eyes bore into hers.

“But I also know that with you, when the time is right, it will be.”

* * *

As Peter lands on her roof once again, Michelle could almost let herself forgive him for getting their hopes up.

It had only been a week – just a week since that conversation – but when Peter’s text had gone through, mentioning that May was out, Michelle wondered if maybe that special first time would finally be in the cards.

It wasn’t. And now Michelle was breaking curfew for no damn reason at all.

She goes to the familiar stairway, already hitting herself for being stupid enough to sneak out.

Michelle was a good kid, was rarely – if ever – late for curfew. But being with Peter – PG-13 as it was – had caused her to get lost in time.

Her parents had more than a few conversations about it with her, cautioning her about spending too much time wrapped up in her own little world with Peter.

* * *

“We didn’t raise you to throw your life away for some boy away, Michelle.” Her mother had said once, setting the table as her dad finished up whatever he was cooking in the kitchen. It smelled good, and Michelle was hungry.

Her and Peter had been dating for over four months by then, and while they’d met Peter more than a handful of times as her best friend – it suddenly took on a whole new meaning to talk to her parents about him as her boyfriend. Namely, in that they never stopped harassing her about him.

“It’s not some boy, mom. It’s Peter. And besides, you’ll be happy to know I’m not throwing anything away. We were just doing homework.” Her mother gives her a look, her father coming up behind her with a steaming pot in hand.

“Oh yeah, ‘homework’ – remember when we called it that, hon?” Her dad had kissed her mom’s cheek and Michelle made a face.

“Ew, dad. No. If you love me, you'll stop it right there.”

“Sex is a beautiful thing, honey.”

“Mom, please. We’ve had this conversation, let’s not do it again.”

“And if you’re going to start having sex with Peter, you need to be prepared to deal with the consequences.”

“And we’re having the conversation.”

“You’re still taking your birth control? Remember, it doesn’t work if you don’t take it every time.”

“Can I be excused? I need to vomit.”

“Morning sickness?” Her dad grinned, both Michelle and her mother giving him faces with varying levels of disgust.

“Michael!”

“Dad!”

He put the pot down on the table and then his hands up.

“Just trying to relieve the tension, ladies.” He turned to his wife. “Leave the poor girl alone, Renee. I think we’ve raised Michelle well enough that she’ll know when the time is right and make the smart decisions.”

“Thanks dad.”

“Besides, if she doesn’t, then I think I could take out that Parker boy, no problem. He’s what – 150 pounds soaking wet? No one would ever find his body.”

“I’m revoking my thanks. Going back to my room. Officially lost my appetite.”

Her father shrugged. “More for us.”

Her mother, no help at all, had only said, “That’s fine, Michelle. I think we should call Peter, invite him over for dinner. I'm sure he'd more expressive than our Michelle.”

“I hate you both. So much.”

“We know. Call your sister. Soup’s getting cold.”

* * *

They hadn’t – called Peter for dinner, a threat only meant to taunt Michelle. She knows deep down that her parents really like Peter, are glad that Michelle’s first serious boyfriend was not only someone she had known for so long but was a guy like Peter Parker.

Even Michelle’s parents seemed to agree – Michelle could do a lot worse than wait around for Peter Parker.

As she slowly clicks open her apartment door, thankful that her dad hadn’t gotten around to installing that alarm system, she’s still convinced that they wouldn’t take too kindly to her sneaking back in after having snuck out to be with him.

Her parents may be cool, cooler than most parents – but they were still parents.

She slowly makes her way to her bedroom, quickly grabbing some clothes so she can jump into the shower. There’s a part of her that wonders if this will be too much noise, will wake them up – but Michelle’s parents were heavy sleepers. Besides, she wanted to wash off the city grime off of her before crawling into bed.

Her shower is quick and efficient, just enough to rinse off the day. She changes into the old t-shirt and shorts she had brought with her, brushed her teeth and is halfway wrapping her hair when she hears the loudest, unmistakable THUMP coming from her bedroom.

She’s confused, scared for a half-second until she remembers.

Peter always waited for her to look out her window, to signal that she was okay, before he went on his way.

Her shower had been quick but clearly not quick enough. He had probably tried to swing in from her window, only to be locked out.

For a half-second, Michelle wonders if Peter will take the hint, will just assume that she just went straight to sleep – wasn’t bleeding out in her safe and quiet little apartment.

She hears a loud bang and then a crash.

Shit.

Michelle drops her headscarf, running back to her bedroom to see Peter, sprawled out on her floor.

Peter – the DUMBASS – had broken her window. Had honestly, broken her window.

“Peter, what the fuck!?” Michelle whispers, anger barely contained as she was hoping – praying even – that her parents hadn’t heard.

Normally, Peter was quiet. Could drop in and out of places without people even knowing he was there. But whether it was because it was late or Michelle hadn’t let him know she was okay or maybe his stupid Parker luck was rubbing off on her, Peter had straight up crashed through her window and was now picking himself up off the floor.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, thankfully having the wherewithal to match her tone.

“No! No I’m not okay! My idiotic boyfriend just crashed through my window, what the fuck were you thinking, Peter?”

“I was worried! You didn’t pass by the window!”

“You’re an idiot. An actual idiot. You better not make valedictorian, you are such a colossal dumbass.”

“Do you think your parents heard us?”

Michelle waits. Frozen. They hadn’t come rushing in, so maybe Peter was right.

A beat. “Michelle?”

“Fuck.”

* * *

Michelle is grounded. So grounded. She can’t explain what happened, couldn’t have Peter there while she explained, because while her parents may know that Peter was her boyfriend, they did NOT know he was Spider-Man.

They’d come in, confused and a little alarmed but then had seen Michelle – having taken a shower, a window broken through, and had somehow concluded that her and Peter had been in her room - and had done so with the express purpose of getting laid.

I mean, they were sort of right, but Michelle hadn’t even gotten that far – and now here she was, grounded and in trouble for something she hadn’t even done. Had wanted to, sure. But hadn’t.

She knows her parents aren’t being unreasonable, successful or not, it was stupid to sneak out to go sleep with her boyfriend. Her parents didn’t know her and Peter hadn't even gotten that far, that she had actually snuck out, or that Peter was Spider-Man... and that would rather die than let anything happen to her.

For for all they knew – Michelle had been left in the lurch by Peter.

“He didn’t just sneak off, mom.”

“Well then where the hell is he, huh Michelle? Do I need to call May now? Let her know what you and her little nephew were getting up to?” Michelle cringes. Her mom was pissed, rarely raised her voice except for instances when her or her sister ever did something monumentally stupid.

And this – Peter’s idiot parkour moves aside – had still been stupid.

As her mom continues, her dad just looking at her with a disappointed look on his face, the thing that bugs her the most isn’t that she’s grounded, that her parents think she’d somehow snuck her boyfriend in to have sex.

It’s that she knew wasn’t far away, was probably still listening.

Michelle just hangs her head.

Parker luck was not only contagious, but also the bane of her fucking existence. 

* * *

Two weeks.

It’s a light sentence, all things considered.

She’d still get to see Peter, but they’d be barred from hanging out alone in her room as they’d previously been free to do so. Michelle’s not sure for how long but with the look on her mom’s face, she’s not going to question it tonight.

So much for waiting for the perfect first time. Considering how her parents looked, Michelle wondered if her and Peter would ever have a moment alone until college.

As the close the door and flick the lights off, her phone lights up. They hadn’t confiscated her phone, either because they had forgotten or a gesture to indicate that they weren’t actually angry with her. Michelle wanted to believe the latter but considering how late it was – she’d have to wait till the morning to find out the truth.

 **dumbass:** I’m sorry, MJ  
**chaoticgood** : don’t, parker. You’ll only make it worse.

Michelle sighs, crawling into bed with her phone in hand.

She shouldn’t place all the blame on Peter. Yeah, he’d invited her over, but she was the one who had agreed to it.

 **chaoticgood:** i’m serious, pete. don’t blame yourself. besides, i need to spend time with my little sis before college anyway.

She sees Peter start to type then stop. He does this for about a minute before Michelle replies again.

 **chaoticgood:** peter, if you apologize i’m going to block your number from my phone. it’s fine. The window will get fixed. don’t worry about it.

He finally responds.

 **dumbass:** is your mom really that cool with you having sex in your bedroom? I expected her to be more angry about that tbh.

Michelle has to stifle a laugh, rolling her eyes that of all the things she could’ve imagined for Peter to say, _that_ had not been it.

She sighs and taps out a reply.

 **Chaoticgood:** unlike some people, my mom is actually v sex positive so, jokes on you. my mom is cool.

He sends a gif of the mom from Mean Girls and Michelle grins.

Damn his Parker charm. Peter may have been the biggest dumbass on the planet sometimes, but as they go back and forth, she’s glad that he’s _her_ dumbass.

They text for a few minutes, before saying goodnight. She plugs in her phone and places it on her nightstand.

As Michelle snuggles into her bed, curled up into the fetal position, she wonders about when – not if, but _when_ – her and Peter finally take that next step.

While a part of her still doesn’t completely understand his logic, doesn’t quite agree, there’s a part of her that realizes that for Peter – Michelle is an inevitability.

As her eyes start to close, feeling the events of the day start to close in on her, Michelle’s old insecurity is quieted by an even stronger realization.

Michelle used to dream about Peter, about what being his girlfriend would be like and how their relationship would be.

Tonight – and all the conversations leading up to it – helped her realize that for Peter, maybe he had dreamed about it too. Had dreamed about her, maybe just as much as she had for him.

Peter had plans, had ideas, had dreams for how his life would be. And in that, he thought about not only the future, but their _future_  - how their life would be.

He was willing to wait for it, willing to take his time. Because for Peter, Michelle wasn’t a passing fling, a girlfriend to love and leave in high school.

Peter liked Michelle. Maybe even loved her. _Really_ loved her.

And from the way he looked at her, Peter seemed to believe he would have a lifetime to show it to her.

And so, Michelle went to sleep.

Dreaming of Peter.

And of what could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was hilarious for me to write, if only because Michelle just cannot catch a break. The poor boy just CANNOT be anything, but a walking disaster can he? 
> 
> I know what you’re thinking.
> 
> seekrest, I was promised angst!! Hurt/Comfort! And you’ll get it! You will! 
> 
> But this chapter and the next are the fluff… nice, sweet little things to tide you over until the last chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy it while you can. :)


	5. Five.

“Peter, if you grab my hand one more time, I swear I’m gonna break it.” Peter grins, not even pretending to loosen his grip.

“Come on MJ, we both know that you’d never _actually_ be able to break my hand. Besides, I’m the only thing keeping you standing right now.” Michelle’s face twists into a grimace, her body betraying her as she wobbles on her feet.

Peter Parker was the best boyfriend she’d ever had.

He was also a little shit.

* * *

It was their spring break, a few days before school started once again. Why Peter decided that skating at the Rockefeller Center would be a good idea was beyond Michelle, but by this point, she’d gotten used to the crazy ideas her idiot would have.

Secretly, Michelle was thrilled at the idea – skating around, holding hands, looking like something out of a damn Hallmark Christmas card in the middle of spring. Even if she hated idea of acting and looking like a typical, seventeen-year-old girl in love, with Peter – she didn’t care.

Because she was. A seventeen-year-old girl in love.

As Peter’s hands, steady and firm, guided her throughout the rink, Michelle just wished that she capable of fulfilling her stupid fantasy without falling flat on her face.

“That’s it, glide and relax. Glide and relax. You’re doing great.” Peter, ever the encourager, was trying his best to make Michelle feel at ease but despite his best efforts, nothing seemed to work.

“I’d be doing a lot better if we’d actually gone over Christmas break like we originally planned, Parker. Would’ve given me time to practice, at least. Why again, did you want to do this now?” She almost stumbles, but Peter holds on.

“Because we don’t know where we’re going yet Michelle. What if we don’t get the chance to do this till _next_ Christmas?” His hands grip her just a bit tighter and Michelle feels the familiar pang of worry in her chest.

Her and Peter had been dating well over a year now, solidified in their relationship and comfortable enough to pick up on their moods, the little tics. She could feel the slight undercurrent of tension in his grip, the way his shoulders straightened at the thought of them separating. She knew that when Peter was thinking about something that bothered him, something that he couldn’t quite figure out, that he’d bite his lip – the right corner of his cheek lifting slightly, just like he was doing now.

As they made their way – slowly – across the rink, Michelle wondered how much she’d forget about each him if they actually left.

* * *

It was college acceptance season; a time already filled with stress and worry – only magnified by the nerdy incubator that their high school was.

Flash had already been accepted to Dartmouth, Betty to Harvard.

Michelle was nervous, not just about getting accepted – but what that acceptance would mean for her and Peter.

There’s a part of her that knows this thinking is stupid, knows that there should _never_ be _any_ boy or relationship that should be prioritized over her own education. She’d listened when her parents would tell her that growing up, had preached that same message to her sister… and yet with Peter, she wondered if maybe, they were the exception.

Rationally, logically – she knew that was foolish. _Every_ teenager in love thought they were the exception. Statistically, realistically – they weren’t.

People don’t stay together with their high school boyfriends forever. More than half broke up in the middle of their freshman year of college. It was inevitable. It was life. Shit happens.

And yet, Michelle couldn’t shake the feeling in her gut – immovable, strong, and steadfast – that Peter and Michelle were _actually_ different, were  _actually_ the exception.

That their relationship – serious at it had become – wasn’t just meant for high school, wasn’t just a first love.

It was unexplainable to Michelle, something she knew would just sound like the idiotic rant of a high schooler in a cheesy tv movie. But it didn’t matter.

Michelle was convinced that Peter was the love of her life.

And the idea of losing that scared her.

* * *

“MJ, we’ve been over this. You know we live in a world with amazing technology right? I can literally order pad thai from my phone, have it delivered to my apartment, have groceries arrive like an hour later, _and_ talk to you and Ned, all at the same time?”

They were in his apartment, curled up on the couch on a lazy Sunday with some holiday movie in the background. It had been their winter break, right after they had submitted all their college applications. Ned was on vacation with his family, May having taken a second shift to cover the bills.

Peter absentmindedly played with her hair as his attention was diverted back to the tv. Michelle looked at him, scooting closer to his chest.

“I know Peter,” she whispered, knowing that he could hear her anyway, “It’s just not the same.” He drew his arm closer to himself, bringing Michelle into an embrace. She watched as he looked at her and smiled.

“We’re going to be fine, Michelle. Long distance isn’t that hard.”

“ _Everyone_ says that, Peter. Everyone thinks that they can actually make it work. But they can’t – you know that kind of shit only happens in movies.”

Peter seems to consider this before saying, “Yeah, but we’ll be different.”

Michelle groans, pushing herself out of his arms and off the couch. He sits up as she paces his living room.

“Are you delusional? How can you be so calm about this Peter? We barely even applied to any of the same schools! What if I get in Princeton and you get into CalTech? We’d literally be on opposite coasts for nine months out of the year!”

“Technically, only eight if you account for random holidays and breaks”

“Peter!” He laughed, motioning his hand for her to come sit by him. When she doesn’t, Peter sighs.

“Michelle, I don’t know what you want me to tell you. What? Did you want us to be _that_ couple that only applied to one school, just so we could be together? Only promised that we’d go together or not at all?”

Michelle crosses her arms and looks away. “No. I couldn’t do that to you.”

“And I wouldn’t do that to you, MJ. We would’ve ended up resenting each other and THEN, would have most definitely broken up.” He looks at her, eyes pleading. “But come on MJ, don’t you think we’re strong enough to handle the distance?”

A part of her does. Knows in the deepest parts of her soul that there’s nothing that could break her bond with Peter. But Michelle just looks at him, holding back tears.

It’s fear that motivates her next whisper.

“But what if we’re not?”

A tear escapes before she can catch it and she quickly tries to brush it away. Peter gets up off the couch and holds her, Michelle losing herself in his embrace.

“I can’t predict the future, M. But I know that any future without you just isn’t worth thinking about. No matter what happens – we’re in it together.”

Michelle held him tighter, wishing with all her heart that his promise could be enough.

* * *

It was true, Michelle would’ve resented Peter forever had he begged her to stay, if he had tried to convince her to stay in New York just for him.

Ned was dead set on going to MIT. Peter had applied to several schools across the country, non-committal except for the debate of whether he could be Spider-Man wherever he ended up.

This had surprised Michelle, initially. She knew now that Tony Stark had pushed MIT, used to have conversations with Peter about attending his alma mater. But with Stark gone, it seemed Peter didn’t much care where he went.

This had bothered Michelle, if only because she hated to see Peter so adrift. But she could also understand; despite excellent grades and the world at her fingertips, Michelle didn’t have a preference either – just wanted the degree so she could make her way into the world.

The Bugle internship had turned into a long-term thing, specially created for Michelle. Johnson had been moved to another department, Michelle matched with another supervisor that she felt that she clicked better with. She was actually writing consistently now, had a guest spot on the “millennial” beat.

She still wasn’t a millennial but just like her previous work with Johnson – she didn’t argue. Parker luck may still be a feature of Peter’s life, but all things considered, Michelle felt like things were actually looking up for her.

In her mind, her internship was a good incentive to stay – her supervisor Carly already saying that she could keep working at the Bugle for credit during school. Regardless of this real and tangible reason, Michelle didn’t even try to deny that one of her main reasons for choosing a school in New York would be that if she did – she wouldn’t have to leave Peter. That maybe if she stayed, maybe – so would he.

But then, Michelle had big dreams, big ideas of what she wanted to do and see. She loved Peter, with nearly everything that was within her, but she was still seventeen.

Maybe Peter was right. They could survive the distance, if that’s what Michelle chose.

She knew that if she ended up at Harvard, Princeton, Yale, or wherever – she’d could easily slip right back into the newspaper world, could easily make connections and get experience that would give her a step up in the journalism world, maybe even more so than the Bugle internship ever could.

And yet she still couldn’t argue with the part of her – growing larger and larger every day – that wondered if maybe staying in New York, staying closer to Peter, wouldn’t such a bad thing after all.

* * *

“One more slide, Michelle. Come on, we’ve almost made it all the way around!” Even as Michelle grew agitated with how unsteady she still was on her skates – over an hour after they’d been on the rink – she couldn’t help but be endeared with the joy in Peter’s voice.

Peter couldn’t be considered a _graceful_ person, per se – freaky spider powers be damned. But of all the things she could’ve guess he was good at, ice skating wasn’t one of them.

He wasn’t a fan of the cold, Michelle knew from Ned’s explanations that this had something to do with his spider-ness, but their movement across the ice – no matter how slow – brought a cute flush to his cheeks. He grinned at her, eyes bright and filled with an easy joy as she made another stride without wobbling.

“That’s it! See, you’re getting the hang of it!”

Michelle smiled back, feeling like maybe – Peter was right.

He wasn’t.

He had spoken too soon.

Michelle should’ve guessed she couldn’t escape Parker luck forever.

* * *

It happens in slow motion, enough so that Michelle can see exactly what’s going to happen before it does but was entirely powerless to stop it. Peter had loosened his grip on her hand for just a second, right when a kid was barreling down into them. He must’ve wanted her to hold her balance, wanted to see if she could do it.

Whatever it was, the kid skating toward her scared her, making her skid – and sent Michelle off balance.

As Michelle started to fall down into the ice, a hand waving out, Peter grabbed her.

Peter was strong, Michelle wasn’t even sure how much. But when she grabbed him, instead of standing fast – she only started to bring Peter down with her.

A part of Michelle wonders why Peter hadn’t sensed the kid’s presence before they had appeared, wondered why he hadn’t stopped their fall.

When she saw his face, eyes widening as he tried to maneuver himself to take the brunt of the fall, she wondered if maybe her presence was still enough to distract him.

* * *

She didn’t ask him a lot of questions about his powers, still didn’t feel the need to press him on things. Ned had filled her in on the most basic of details, Peter rounding out what she felt she needed to know.

Spider-Man was undeniably a part of Peter’s life. And while she was incredibly proud of him, was terrified anytime he texted her that he was out on patrol, Spider-Man wasn’t the one she had fallen in love with.

Peter was.

And yet, Peter’s Spider-Man side seemed to bleed into their lives anyway.

* * *

“Bad day, dork?” Peter was on his bed, turned on his side with his back to the wall. His hands were over his ears, his eyes closed in pain. Michelle stopped, put down her bag as lightly as she could, wincing as she noticed how Peter’s fists seemed to clench further.

She’s immediately reminded of something Ned had told her, how Peter sometimes went into sensory overload. It was the first time she was encountering it for herself, something that made her now wish she knew what to do.

“Peter? Should I leave?” She whispered as softly as she could, but Peter still seemed to gasp from the pain. It hurt Michelle, seeing Peter so vulnerable and hurt. It took all that was within her not to rush over and hold him, to try and smoothen the deep lines on his face. But she was frozen, trying not to breathe so as to not cause any further pain for him.

She waits two seconds before going to reach for her bag again.

“Don’t.” She stops, looking back at him. He hadn’t changed positions and yet somehow must’ve heard her movement. Was she breathing too hard? Was it her clothes? Michelle panics, holding her breath while she thinks of what to do next.

“Breathe, Michelle.” Peter says through gritted teeth.

She holds it for another ten seconds, feeling like her heart was going to leap out of her chest. She only released when Peter’s eyes open and he blurts out, “Dammit, Michelle. Breathe.”

The look on his face rattles her, filled with an agony and a pain that she can’t quite explain. They’d had a lot of emotional conversations over the past few months, especially about Peter’s grief over Tony Stark, but the sheer anguish that seemed permanently etched onto Peter’s face broke Michelle.

“Tell me what to do Peter. I just want to help.” She can barely hear herself as she whispers, knowing only from the twitch of Peter’s mouth that he had probably heard her as if he was yelling. He closes his eyes again, seeming almost dizzy from the strain.

“Come here.”

She goes without hesitation, crawling onto the bed beside him before she can think better of it. He tenses as she does so, the movement probably causing an unimaginable amount of pain and noise for him.

Michelle just waited, searching his face for any sense of what to do. He squints open an eye and brings his hands down from his ears.

“Peter…”

“Just—” He winces, bringing Michelle into an embrace. His movements are agonizingly slow, Michelle wishing now more than ever that she knew the true extent of Peter’s hearing abilities.

How far did it go? Was he hearing the whole building? The whole block? Could he hear her heartbeat? His own? How did he deal with this? How was Michelle supposed to make it better?

As if he could read her mind, Peter’s arms are now firmly wrapped around her, holding her tightly to his chest. She pauses then returns the embrace, hoping that the sudden movement wasn’t hurting him.

“Just stay with me.” Michelle said nothing, just listened to the sound of Peter’s pained breathing.

Minutes past. Michelle doesn’t dare to move, breathing as quietly and evenly as she could. And then, inexplicably, she starts to feel the tension in Peter dissipate. His body slowly unwinds, his arms loosening until finally she looks back at up at him and sees his eyes – open, clear, relaxed almost.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

Peter gave a soft smile, seemed almost tired with the effort. “S’fine. Sensory overload. Happens sometimes.”

Michelle’s brows furrow. “How often?”

Peter shrugs. “Not as much as it used to. Just needed to focus myself.”   

“How do you do that?” He looks at her, the smile deepening.

“Easy. I just focused on your heartbeat.” Michelle can’t help the eye roll that escapes.

“Oh, come on Parker, you don’t need to lay it on so thick. We’re dating. I love you. You know this already.”

“I love you too, Michelle. But I’m serious, hearing your heartbeat… I don’t know. It just… it calms me.”

Michelle considers this before asking, “Well, what did you do before me?”

Peter stiffens at the question, Michelle regretting asking it. It’d been over a year and half since Tony Stark died, but she knew that time didn’t cure grief – sometimes, it could only prolong it.

Tony had clearly been the one who used to help Peter before, maybe with some kind of gadget or some kind of fatherly presence. But Tony wasn’t there anymore.

Michelle knew that no one could ever replace the hole that Tony Stark had left in Peter’s heart – knew that the loss of another mentor and father-figure still hurt him deeply. Yet as Peter seemed to relax again, she wondered if maybe her own presence in his life had somehow helped him.

He confirms this thought, saying. “Tony used to help, but honestly – it would never last long. I just used to get so off balance, so out of sync with myself and the rest of the world.” He runs his hand through her hair, before cradling her face.

“But Michelle, it’s like you… you ground me. Make me feel… safe. I know you think it’s cheesy, but it’s true. Any time I start to feel like it’s getting too much, or like I’m getting too stressed, I just close my eyes and listen… for you.”

Michelle is touched, unsure of exactly how to respond.

It was something she was still getting used to, how much Peter loved her.

Peter Parker was a terrible liar, but Michelle often wondered how it was even possible that Peter could ever love her nearly as much as she loved him.

* * *

“You know, he’s been in love with you forever, MJ. I don’t know how you can think otherwise.” The statement had felt like it had come out of nowhere for Michelle, her and Ned walking over to Peter’s apartment for a study session before their next calc exam.

“What?”

“Peter. He loves you. You don’t know that by now?”

“Uhhh… yeah, Leeds. I do. Why are you bringing this up?” Ned looks a little sheepish as he replies.

“Well… I kind of overheard you earlier in the hallway, talking to Betty about you and Peter.” Michelle’s face flushes, wondering just how much Ned and caught on to that conversation.

* * *

Her and Betty weren’t the best of friends, friendly enough because of their time in decathalon from double dates during her and Ned’s brief relationship. After their breakup, Michelle didn’t feel the need to just dump Betty too. But now with Betty’s current line of questions, she almost regrets that decision.

“It’s just amazing to me, Michelle. You and Peter haven’t even known each other that long, and yet you’ve managed to stay together longer than any of the other couples in high school. I mean, shit, you guys have now been dating longer than Tyler and Kyle and EVERYONE thought they’d be the first ones to get MARRIED.”

Michelle put her books in her locker, switching out what she needed for the next class. Betty was waiting for some explanation, but all Michelle could do was shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you, Brant. Peter and I just work.”

Betty rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know that, Michelle. You guys are so cute it’s almost sick. But come on, fess up. What’s your secret? Meditation? You make a blood pact? Is that sex _that_ good?”

Michelle whips her head around, in equal parts shock and disbelief. “What the hell, Betty? You want to say that louder for the whole school to hear?”

“What! It’s a valid question! You can’t tell me that you and Peter aren’t going at it like rabbits. Especially with the way you two lovebirds act in school.”

Michelle’s ears reddened, looking around to see if anyone had overheard.

Michelle wasn’t shy about talking about sex, had been raised to believe that as long as you made responsible, consensual decisions, that sex was a natural part of any relationship. And while it had taken a minute to get there – longer than Michelle had wanted if she was honest – her and Peter were doing just fine in that department.

Peter had been right. What they had _was_ special, had been worth waiting for.

Michelle had been right too. Their first time hadn’t been the magical experience that Peter had seemed to wish for it to be. Peter Parker may have possibly been the most romantic seventeen-year-old boy that Michelle had ever met, but even Peter – spider-powers or not – couldn’t fight biology.

Their second time, however – and the many times afterwards – had made Michelle think that maybe Peter wasn’t all wrong.

Michelle didn’t have anything else to compare it to. But being with Peter was better than anything she could’ve ever dreamed.

“You know, my sex life is none of your business, Betty.” Betty rolls her eyes again, exasperated.

“I don’t need the details, Michelle. I’m just…” She looked sadly across the hall, seeing Ned as he walked past. Michelle followed her eyes until Betty met hers again.

“It seems like you and Peter might actually be the real thing. Almost like you were destined for each other, you know?” 

Michelle smirks at this, closing her locker door. “Yeah, I never used to believe in any of that until I met Peter. Sometimes I still wonder if we’ll just wake up one day and ask himself, ‘what the hell am I doing?’”

* * *

Remembering her earlier conversation – and the embarrassment at wondering exactly how much Ned had overheard – made Michelle uncomfortable. Her and Peter didn’t exactly _hide_ their relationship, the intimacy that went along with sharing every part of yourself with a person – _the_ person, that you loved. But it still wasn’t something they talked about openly in front of Ned.

Regardless, Ned takes her silence as a sign to continue, barreling on.

 “I’m just saying, MJ. Peter thinks the world of you, thinks you’re like, the best thing that’s ever happened to him. The BEST thing, like, if I was a more insecure person I’d almost say that he loves you more than me. And you know, that actually might be right but then again, friendship love and romantic love are completely separate entities and are totally valid and equal apart from each other and—”

“Take a breath, Leeds. I get it.”

Ned obliges but still continues.

“I just don’t understand how you can think that Peter could ever think that dating you was a mistake.” Michelle is quiet as they walk, thinking of what to say.

If she was honest, she’d really only said that to make Betty feel better, had wanted to distract her from the pain of her own breakup with Ned. While Michelle was still unsure of what the future had in store for them, Peter’s love for her – him _being_ in love with her – wasn’t something she had any doubts on.

It helped, that he told her so – endlessly. She doesn’t quite remember when it first started, wished that she could place when exactly the “I love you’s” they exchanged had first became common. She knows it wasn’t long after his confession on the roof, way before they had ever started sleeping together. But for the life of her Michelle, just couldn’t think of when it first began.

In some ways, it didn’t matter. Peter telling her that he loved her, Michelle telling Peter she loved him, felt like an inevitability.  

Michelle knew Betty was right, knew that on paper – it made no sense for her and Peter to be as strong as they were. They were both so different, so stubborn. Peter with his constant need to over-protect and apologize, the first one to fling himself into danger. Michelle with her fierce drive for independence, caring little of what the people around her thought.

And yet, the two of them together – somehow – made their best qualities shine even brighter. Peter was more open, had become more confident in speaking his mind in class – in not taking shit from Flash. And Michelle had learned how to be more tactful, was inspired to be a more graceful leader than just to rule the decathlon team with an iron fist.

Peter and Michelle just _worked_. They fought, sure – over big things and lots of little ones. It wasn’t always an easy relationship, what with Peter’s side gig causing more headaches than it seemed like it was worth for Michelle, but in the same way – it all felt so natural.

Her and Peter and only been a couple for a year, but on some level – Michelle felt like they’d been together their whole lives. Like the universe had somehow destined for them to be together and here they were, finally playing catch up.

As Michelle and Ned walked to Peter’s apartment in silence, Michelle wondered if she believed if destiny might be real.

* * *

Peter’s senses had kicked in seemingly at the last minute, his hand going to brace her head, her neck as they fell. The movement shifted Michelle enough she was on top of him, landing on the ice in a way that was anything but graceful.

As the ice skaters around her laughed, Michelle flushed with embarrassment. Peter, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind.

“Wipe that stupid smirk off your face, Parker. I told you I didn’t want to go ice skating. Are you happy now? We’ll probably end up on some Instagram fail account.” His grin just grows wider.

“I don’t know, MJ. Things are looking just fine from where I’m laying.” It’s then that Michelle is aware of how close they are, how compromising their position would be if they were in the safety of a bedroom instead of sprawled out in the middle of Rockefeller Center.

A part of her is self-conscious, slightly humiliated that she essentially wiped it in front of all these people. But the tone of his voice warms her, the feeling in her gut knowing that despite the fall, she’d forgive him. Because she was so hopelessly and embarrassingly in love with him.

Peter was a sappy, emotional little shit.

But he was hers.

And she – inexplicably – was his.

“I would’ve thought you would’ve caught me. Saved me from falling on my ass.”

“Um, technically _I’m_ the one who fell on my ass, so I don’t see the problem here.” He smiles at her, face flushed with joy and desire.

His eyes – beautiful, dark and deep – seem to radiate with love for her, so much so that Michelle can’t help herself leans in, hearing the whoops and hollers of the skaters around her as their lips meet.

Michelle wasn’t sure where college was going to take them, was still terrified that if it came to it, that long-distance would be the end of them.

But as she broke from their embrace, goofy grins on each of their faces as they lifted themselves up, Michelle thinks that maybe none of that would matter at all.

As she stumbles along, Peter’s hand – warm and strong in hers – Michelle thinks that maybe thinking of the future, didn’t have to be so terrifying.

That maybe the future – any future – she could handle.

As long as she had Peter, maybe the future didn’t have to be so scary after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter & MJ are the loves of each others life PASS IT ON. 
> 
> Did everyone see the new FFH trailer? Marvel said PETERMJ RIGHTS!!! 
> 
> Come scream about it with me on [tumblr](http://seek-rest.tumblr.com).


	6. +1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the tags, kids. Angst full steam ahead but don't worry - happy endings all around <3

“You ready, Michelle?”

Michelle looks up from her desk, seeing Carly with an expectant look on her face. She glances at the time.

“Shit! Sorry Carly, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“Not a problem at all, maybe we’ll actually skip the lunch crowd now.” Michelle puts her laptop to sleep and grabs her bag, following Carly out the door to some salad place she had recommended.

Michelle’s gig at the Bugle was better than she could’ve ever dreamed. The work itself was interesting and exciting, and Carly never seemed to have an issue with the variability of Michelle’s class schedule.

Being a freshman at Columbia would’ve been exhilarating regardless, but having the opportunity to actually apply what she had learned into a real office – Carly always hinting that there would be a job waiting for her when she graduated – was a dream.

It helped that for the first time in Michelle, she finally felt like everything was falling exactly into place. As she walks with Carly, trying to match per pace so her long legs don’t overpower her boss, Michelle considers how undeniably lucky the past year had been.

* * *

 

She’d been accepted to nearly every college she had applied for.

(Except for Yale. Waitlisted. Fuck Yale.)

But the minute she got the email about Columbia, Michelle already knew that that’s exactly where she was going to go. Knew it before Peter had even told her that he’d decided on NYU for Mechanical Engineering.

It was perfect. Kismet. The solution to all the stress and worries that the past few months had been. After their many conversations on the topic, the promises and the assurances that no matter where college took them – that Peter and Michelle would make it – the universe worked things out perfectly for them.

Michelle knew this was a conscious decision on both of their parts. Knew that on some level, they had both factored the other in their decisions.

But as Michelle walked into the salad bar with Carly, feeling lighter, full and more secure than she had in years, she was confident that no matter what happened next, nothing could bring her down.

* * *

Michelle should’ve known better, to dare the universe like that.

Things were going too well, too good, too _perfect_ for her to expect anything to be wrong. Life was going exactly according to plan, better than she could have ever dreamed.

She technically lived at home with her family, saving money on room and board while still getting to tease her little sister endlessly.

Michelle had already declared her majors – doubles in sociology and political science – and felt confident as she finished up her first year, that she was exactly where she belonged.

She had an internship she adored, got class credit for, and a relationship with her boss that didn’t make her want to pull out her hair.

And what made a sweet life even sweeter… was that she had Peter. When he wasn’t holed up in some lab or she wasn’t running off on some Bugle assignment, they spent almost every waking minute together.

Hours spent studying in coffee shops, quick lunches on their way to class, lazy afternoons in Peter’s apartment, long nights they spent alone.

For Michelle, it was perfect – like a dream, a hint of what their future could be. On some days, especially the lazy ones – after a full day of homework, when Peter would be drifting off to sleep before he went out to patrol – Michelle would catch herself playing with his hair, thinking of what a life – a _real_ life – with Peter would be.

Michelle had never imagined herself to be the domestic type, never used to subscribe to the fantasies of weddings, marriage, and children like all her friends had.

It’s not that she was opposed to the idea – her parents, gross as they were, were essentially the poster board for what a perfect married couple could be.

They _weren’t_ perfect. They fought often enough that Michelle sometimes wondered if they would bring the walls down. But it was never out of spite, never mean – it was always done with the idea that while they wildly disagreed with whatever they were arguing about, they still loved each other. They _chose_ to keep loving each other.

Michelle never used to think she could ever find something like that. That there wasn’t any kind of relationship or love that would ever live up to the one that she had grown up with, had seen as the perfect model for what a life together with someone could be.

Until she met Peter.

Being with Peter, almost two years now, made her feel like maybe – that kind of life wasn’t far out of reach.

* * *

The only hitch in this plan – the _only_ thing that her parents had never had to contend with, was Spider-Man.

Michelle was supportive of Peter in what he did, was proud of him, would never once dream of asking him to step down from it. She’d come to terms with the idea that Spider-Man – being a hero – was just as much of a part of him as being May’s nephew, being her boyfriend, being the protégé, and partial inheritor, of Tony Stark.

It was an inevitability, Peter being Spider-Man. She wouldn’t dream of changing his mind about that.

But there’s a part of Michelle that would be lying if she didn’t think it would be simpler, easier, if Peter wasn’t Spider-Man. A part of her heart that didn’t stop when he’d get some alert about something happening in the city, would roll out of bed and swing away in the night.

She’d wait – panicked, anxious, and filled with dread – until he would return. Would sometimes get nauseous at the idea that she would fall asleep and would wake up to news that would shatter her world.

It was the only part of her life that wasn’t perfect, the only thing that she dreaded.

The idea that Peter Parker – her idiotic, incredible, dumbass of a boyfriend, the absolute love of her life – would leave her one day. That there would be a day that he’d go out on patrol, stop a robbery, be in the absolute wrong damn place at the wrong damn time…

That he wouldn’t come home.

Michelle was terrified of that ever happening.

* * *

Much like Michelle had in their early days, Peter had assured her of the same – that nothing would happen to him. That he’d be safe. That he’d be okay.

Just as it had been an empty promise then, it was an empty promise now. Before, back when Peter’s grief was still new, when their relationship was still just beginning, Michelle let herself tell these lies to Peter – the false assurance that she knew she never should’ve made.

Because she knew it wasn’t true. She couldn’t promise Peter that no harm would ever come to her just as he couldn’t promise the same about him.

This tension – this unresolved thread in their relationship – was probably the only wall-shaking argument they had ever had.

* * *

“Peter, will you sit still for one second? I can’t focus when you’re pacing back and forth.”

Michelle was frustrated, wracking her brain to try and finish an assignment for one of her sociology classes. It wasn’t a hard assignment exactly, just took some thinking – a type of reflection that Michelle wasn’t comfortable with exploring with anyone except for Peter, much less her sixty-year-old cranky professor.

They were in his apartment, Peter having the whole place to himself. It hadn’t been accident, an intentional decision on both his and Pepper Potts-Stark.

Peter had merely wanted a single dorm for the privacy; after Ned got accepted to MIT, he didn’t really have any desire to room with anyone else, especially with his late-night activities.

But Pepper – as she always had – thought ahead.

Michelle wasn’t sure what the freshman year policy was for NYU students but if Peter had been required to live on campus, suddenly – it wasn’t relevant for him anymore. He’d gotten an apartment with little to no issue at all. A nice one at that.

It didn’t hurt to have the full force – persuasion and financial – of Stark Industries behind him.

Michelle knew that a part of this bothered Peter, if bothered was even the correct term. She knew all too well how much he and May had struggled over the years, how much they had pinched and saved for his college education. But Tony Stark had apparently planned for it all.

He couldn’t have planned on dying – though Michelle sometimes wonders if even that was up for debate – but he had certainly planned on Peter, no matter what, being financially taken care of.

Peter wasn’t used to it, still kept his apartment as bare bones as possible – insisting on saving whatever financial resources that Pepper had designated into a safe and guarded trust. Michelle liked that, that Peter thought ahead.

Even if he didn’t seem to think much further than his next few steps.

Peter was pacing back and forth in his apartment, sometimes absentmindedly walking up the wall, deep in thought about some engineering problem. Part of it was assignment related, but Michelle knew that it was mostly having to do with an issue as Spider-Man.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, this thing is just… I can’t get this one problem right.”

“Well you’ll have more than one problem if you don’t sit your ass down and just REST for a second. You’re giving me a migraine.”

Peter glances towards Michelle, surprised at her tone. Michelle could’ve reasoned with herself that it was just aggravation from her paper, but even she knows it’s oriented more on the thing that’s keeping Peter from standing still.

“What’s gotten into you today? Bad day at the Bugle?” Michelle rolls her eyes.

“No, Peter. Bugle’s fine. Just tired… can you just sit down? Normally? On the floor!?” She waves her hands, throwing a pen accidentally. He catches it – of course he would – and tilts his head slightly.

She sighs, turning her face back to her laptop, willing Peter to drop it – to let her aggravated statement go.

But Peter knows her too well by now to do that.

“No… something’s up. Tell me, what’s wrong? Is there anything I can do?” He’s immediately sitting next to her, on the chair across from hers. She looks up at him and he’s sitting there, patiently. She sighs again and closes her laptop.

“No, Peter. It’s not anything you can do.”

“Is it the assignment? We can talk it out if you want.”

“It’s not the assignment.”

“Okay… is it… you know…?”

Michelle glares.

“Peter, if you seriously bring up my period right now then I’m sleeping over at my parents for the next week.”

The threat is hollow, and Peter knows it, smirking as he says, “Yeah you know that might be a good idea. I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Jones would like to see their daughter again. Seeing as how technically, you’re supposed to be living with them.”

Her eyes narrow. “Maybe I will, Parker. See how you like being without me, wipe that smirk off your face.”

Peter laughs and shakes his head. “Geez, I’m kidding Michelle. Seriously, what’s going on with you?” He says it jokingly, but Michelle is agitated. She pushes her chair out and stands up.

“It’s nothing, alright? Just stop pacing while you figure out whatever problem you’ve got going on alright?”

“It’s _not_ nothing, Michelle,” Peter’s voice raises, reaching the end of his patience for this line of conversation. “Clearly, something’s bothering you. Come on, we’ve been through enough by now that you can be honest with me.”

She folds her arms together. He returns it. They stare at each other for a solid minute before Michelle sighs and releases her arms.

“I’m just…. do you have to out tonight?” Peter quirks an eyebrow at her.

“I mean, no? I thought you _wanted_ to get Chinese tonight. We don’t have to, but I explicitly remember you saying that you were sick of pizza.”

“No, not—I’m not, it’s not that Peter. I’m saying…” She takes a deep breath. “Spider-Man. Can you just… not tonight? I know that’s the problem you’ve been trying to figure out, some issue with some mechanical monster or whatever?” She waves a hand out before putting them on her hips.

Peter turns his head to his side. “You… want me to _not_ try and stop a mechanized android that’s been terrorizing city?”

Michelle groans. “No…ugh, see this is why I didn’t want to talk about this with you.”

“Talk about what Michelle? I thought you were okay with this… with being Spider-Man. You know that it’s a package deal, that we’re one in the same.” Peter stands up, voice even – but Michelle can hear the tension simmering underneath it.

“ _Yes_ , Peter. So you’ve told me. So you always tell me. It’s not that, I’m not saying that. I’m just saying, it’s a little hypocritical how you’re always the one harassing me about staying away from danger when you’re the first one to jump right into it.”

He takes a step forward. “That’s different, Michelle. _You_ don’t have super-powers. _You_ could get hurt.”

She steps right towards him, her face only inches from his. “And so could _you_ , Peter. YOU could get hurt. You’re not as invincible as you seem to think you are.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty damn close, Michelle. Besides, I told you. I promise, I’ll be safe. Be mindful, alright?” He says this dismissively but all it does is agitate Michelle further.

“Oh, so you YOU get to just placate me, expect me to be over-cautious and turn down assignments so that YOU feel okay, but the minute – the MINUTE – that I mention that I want you to be safe, you try and dismiss me? Because of what? Because of your fucking spider-powers? What the hell is that going to mean to me if you’re dead Peter?”

“I’m _not_ going to die, Michelle. Not anytime soon at least. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you? Because I sure as hell don’t think so sometimes.”

“I’m not an idiot, Michelle. I know what I’m doing. And not just because of my powers, I’ve been doing this long enough to know when things get too much for me.”

“But that’s just it, Peter, I don’t think you do. Tell me, when’s the last time you talked to the Avengers huh? Let them handle things in the city for once?”

Peter’s lips press firmly together, his eyes narrowing.

“They have a lot on their plate, Michelle. I’m in contact, I’ll let them know when I can’t handle it.”

“ _Will_ you Peter? Or will you just throw yourself in the line of fire, without giving a damn for what that would mean if you died? If you left me?”

Michelle is crying now, the tears streaming down her face.

“Tell me huh? What are you going to do if it’s too much for you and you DON’T get the chance to call for help? Because you’re being so stubborn to think you can just take it on your own.”

“It’s not being stubborn, Michelle.” Peter’s voice is raised, almost yelling. “I’m saying, I know what I can handle and what I can’t. And this mechanized android shit is something that’s perfectly in line with a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man alright?”

“And if you’re wrong?” Michelle is yelling, not even caring if the neighbors could hear. “If you’re wrong? Then what, Pete? You’ll just die? Leave me here? Like Tony did to Pepper and Morgan? What’s going to happen if we get married, huh? Have kids? Are you really saying you’re fine with leaving me like he did?”

Michelle regrets the words the minute they’re out of their mouth, Peter’s eyes blazing with hurt and anger.

“Don’t you dare bring him up right now, Michelle. That’s low and you know it.” Peter says through gritted teeth.

Michelle – knowing she’s pushing, knowing she’s going too far, but the deepest part of her fears is driving her now, continues anyway saying – “Well maybe that’ll get it through your fucking head Peter! Tony Stark wasn’t invincible, and neither are you. NEITHER ARE YOU.” She almost spits the words, the tension in the air so thick.

“And I don’t give a damn if you don’t want to hear it, Peter. Because it’s not just about you, okay? It’s about me too. If you died… I don’t… I can’t even think…” She gasps, the pain of her words hitting her.

They stand there, angry as the venom of their words fall around them. Neither of them moves, not wanting to give each other an inch in their anger.

Michelle knows that she was wrong, wrong to bring Tony up – wrong to blow up over something they’d talked about endlessly.

But Peter was wrong too. She knew it. He knew it.

Superpowers or not, he was being a hypocrite.

But that wasn’t the worst part for Michelle, Peter’s hypocrisy. She could care less if he wanted to save the world, was so immensely proud of him for doing the right thing even when it was hard.

But the thought – the terror, the _nightmare_ – of ever being in a world without Peter, the sheer agony of dreaming that someday he might not come home – especially when they had already created such a perfect life – was earth-shattering to her.

Her life with Peter was a dream, better than anything she could have ever come up with. If she lost that… if she lost him… Michelle can’t even fathom what a life without him would be.

The idea of this takes the wind out of her, her shoulders shaking. She’s sobbing now, loudly and without restraint.

If Peter’s still angry with her, still hurt by her jabs at Tony, Michelle doesn’t know it because the minute she starts sobbing, he’s right there – soothing her. He rubs her back, holds her in his arms as he murmurs comforting things.

It strikes Michelle that it’s a mirror of that first encounter, the first time they’d met on the roof – when Peter had told her he was Spider-Man. She wonders if Peter thinks of that too. She holds on to him just as tightly as he had, letting the tears and the snot mess up his t-shirt.

He waits, lets some of the sobs subside before he speaks up.

“I can’t promise that something won’t happen to me, Michelle. I’m sorry, I wish I could. It was foolish of me to try.”

“I know that, dumbass. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Michelle sniffs, Peter softly laughing into her hair.

“I know, Michelle. And I’m sorry. But you know it’s not going to change anything.”

“I know.” Her voice is quiet, a part of her wishing the pain of it would change Peter’s mind. A stronger part of her – the part of her that was so proud of Peter – knew it wouldn’t. He brings a hand to her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.

Peter was older now, had grown an inch or two, had the faintest hint of a 5 o’clock shadow, his jaw even more defined.

But his eyes – those damn dreamy and beautiful brown eyes – were the same ones that Michelle had fallen in love with all those years ago.

She’d been an idiot when she was a teenager, foolish and abrasive and mean. Michelle wishes she had gotten over herself sooner, hadn’t waited for Peter to start things, because then she could’ve loved him longer.

But as she gazes into his eyes – filled with love, lust, and immeasurable pain – Michelle knows that no matter what, she was going to love Peter Parker until the day she died.

And that Peter was going to love her right back.

* * *

It’s this conversation that hits her then, the day she was in the salad bar with Carly. Because one minute she’s debating about ethically-sourced arugala, and the next she’s getting an alert on her phone.

She glances to it, seeing Ned’s picture.

“Sorry, I gotta take this.”

“Oh no worries, take your time.” Carly puts a hand up as she brings a napkin to her mouth. Michelle grabs the phone, answering the call.

Ned was in Boston, living it up at MIT like she always imagined he would be. They had a weekly video chat scheduled between the three of them, a group chat that had started back in high school that updated during the day.

But Ned never called on his own. Not during the day.

Not unless something was wrong.

A low sense of dread builds in the pit of Michelle’s stomach, but she dismisses it – thinking that whatever reason Ned’s calling, it can’t be anything more pressing than girl trouble.

“Hey Leeds, what’s up?”

“MJ, have you talked to Peter?”

The panic in his voices strikes her, freezes her in place.

“Not since this morning? Why? what’s wrong? What’s going on, Ned?”

“I.. I don’t know. I just… you know he and I were tag-teaming on the suit right? Like I still have an outsourced link to it and everything? I mean, I don’t stalk him or anything, I just like to fiddle around with the logistics with him, brainstorm and everything. I know Peter’s perfectly capable of handling his own suit, I just—”

“Get to the point Ned. What’s going on?” Michelle cuts him off, feeling a growing sense of panic. Ned rambled, it was a thing he did. But this wasn’t fun, excitable chattering – excitement over some new tech thing that he and Peter geeked out about.

This was nervous. Panicked. Something was wrong.

“I just… I got an alert you know? I forgot, last time we talked I was checking on the alert system for what he needed when Peter needs to contact the Avengers but like, can’t right? And like, it’s connected to my phone and I got the notice in class so—”

“Ned!”

“I think Peter’s in trouble. I think something’s wrong.”

* * *

Every fear.

Every panicked thought.

Every nightmare she’s ever had.

She feels it crashing down her. Feels the world moving around her while she stands still.

Something’s wrong. She knows it. She knows it. She can feel it. Fuck.

“Where is he, Ned?”

“He’s in Midtown, I don’t know – something went wrong with his suit. It’s like it sent the alert and then it just… cut off.”

This strikes Michelle as odd. She knows the Stark suit – if it could even called that now, what with all the changes Peter had done to it over the years – was built to last, to withstand nearly anything that Peter could face.

And then it hits her.

The android. The fucking mechanical thing terrorizing the city.

What if it had messed with Peter’s suit?

Wasn’t that what he was trying to figure out? To prevent?

Michelle feels so stupid, unbelievably foolish and stupid. She had been crying over losing him, crying over the thought of a life without him – when all he had been doing was trying to prevent that from happening.

She walks to the table with Carly, giving a short nod before saying, “Family emergency, I gotta go.”

“Do you need—” Michelle doesn’t hear what she has to say.

She runs.

* * *

“Ned where is he? Can you still trace him? Tell me where he is?”

She’s in a full-on sprint now, thankful more than ever that Peter had been successful in convincing her to go on morning runs with him now. The shoes that she wore weren’t practical, were probably getting ruined in the city, but she doesn’t care.

She has to get to Peter.

“I can’t, MJ. That’s the problem, I don’t know what’s—”

But before Ned can say anything, the call drops. And Michelle can see it.

It’s an ugly thing, a mechanical beast with long arms and legs. It looks almost like a swamp monster, were it not for the shimmering metal surrounding it, the red eyes gazing back at her.

Michelle is frozen, like a deer in highlights when suddenly she’s swinging.

She should be used to the feeling now, used to going from one minute to the next of being firmly on the ground and then up in the air. But all she can feel is relief, sheer and utter relief, that the person that had grabbed her was Peter.

At least, until he swings her away.

“Peter, what the hell are you doing?”

“Stay here, Michelle. Don’t come any closer, this thing… I don’t know what it wants but I need you as far away from it as possible.”

“Peter, what’s wrong with your suit? Ned called and said—”

“Yeah something’s jamming the frequency, I can’t get a good read on anything. I tried calling out, contacting Buck and Sam but it just—”

“You need to get out of here, Peter. If your suit’s not working, then you’re in danger. You could—”

“I can’t just leave, Michelle! There’re people here who could get hurt, who could die if I—”

“You could die, Peter! Your suit is useless out here, you’re out in a glorified bedsheet right now.”

He whips his mask off, Michelle knowing he must be panicked if he’s doing so in public. She doesn’t care, because all she can see is the fear – the terror, the bravery – in his eyes.

“I can’t let them die, Michelle.”

“And I can’t let _you_ die, Peter. Don’t do this. Please, don’t—”

“I need you to leave, Michelle. I can’t be distracted right now. I can’t—I _won’t_ lose you.” He kisses her, fiercely and passionately before jamming his mask back on and swinging away.

“Peter!” She yells but Peter is long gone.

* * *

Panic.

Aching.

She should run. She knows she should run. That Peter would be too frantic, too scared to think straight if she’s right there with him.

But she can’t.

Peter’s out there.

Peter’s in danger.

Michelle has to do something.

* * *

She goes through her phone, frustrated that she can’t find service. She knows it’s down, knows that whatever the fuck the monster bot was doing was taking down service. But she tries anyway.

She calls Wanda. Bucky. Sam. No answer. The lines are down. Michelle is panicking. She’s just a human person, she doesn’t have powers, she doesn’t have anything remotely useful for this scenario.

But she has Peter. She _loves_ Peter. And she’ll be damned if she’s going to lose him today.

She runs right back to where she was before, only to see as Peter is going to toe-to-toe with the beast.

“Hey freakazoid, look over here!” Peter yells, getting its attention away from some civilians who are fearfully running away. A part of Michelle thinks she should help, should direct them to safety. But she’s transfixed, looking and seeing only Peter.

He swings as the android moves in his direction, barely missing its arms as it tries and grabs him.

For all of Michelle’s protestations and support, she can’t say she’s ever really seen Peter in action. She remembers the DC trip, him swinging off the bus before the decimation…

But this, seeing Peter work – it’s like some kind of twisted dance.

He swings, moving before the monster can hit – directing himself and others to where they need to go. It’s almost beautiful, Michelle thinks, how _good_ Peter is at this.

Peter was right. He knows what he’s doing. He can handle himself.

But before Michelle can even finish the thought, she sees a glint of something that shakes her to her core.

Peter is facing the other direction, had just moved a tourist out of the way when he sees her – frozen in place.

“Michelle, get the hell out of here!”

And then it happens.

* * *

Michelle feels as if time has slowed down – the world around her frozen in place as she watches in horror.

In an instant, she feels stupid – immeasurably and incredibly stupid. She should’ve listened to Peter, should’ve gotten the hell out of there.

Because Peter – her idiotic, dumbass, incredible boyfriend, the absolute love of her life – was focused on her, mouth open – an arm outstretched.

He’s so focused on her, so completely and utterly locked into place – Michelle can’t even say anything, can’t even warn Peter – to tell him, to scream – as she sees a glint of something form from the android’s arm.

She opens her mouth, hands outstretched – a mirror of Peter’s stance.

Peter’s back straightens, as if he knows it’s coming.

But it’s too late.

The android slices right through him, the jagged edge of Michelle’s nightmares running so cleanly through him that she can see the edge.

She hears Peter scream, an agonized cry that makes Michelle feel as if she’s the one who’s been stabbed.

The android removes the blade and Peter crumples to the ground.

* * *

A nightmare.

It’s a waking nightmare.

She should’ve listened.

Michelle just wanted to be there for him, to save him. She couldn’t lose him. She can’t lose him.

She won’t.

Michelle starts running, faster than her feet can even keep up. The android is still a threat, still looking menacing and frightful as it barrels toward her, but she doesn’t care.

All she can see is Peter, focused only on Peter.

Who is on the ground. Unmoving. Still.

The android roars but Michelle can barely hear him.

All she can hear is the thundering of her own heart.

* * *

It’s as this moment that the Avengers arrive. The cavalry Peter had called had finally arrived, a minute too damn late.

In the half-second it takes for her to get closer to Peter, she can see Sam in the background – sees as Wanda swoops in and moves the android away. The fight roars to her left but Michelle couldn’t give a damn. She stumbles over herself as she gets to Peter, hands shaking as she turns him over, rips off his mask.

A part of her registers that she should care about his identity, should be mindful if there are any other civilians around to see.

A greater part of her could care less, hands shaking as she took in Peter’s face.

“Peter? Peter, look at me—look at me, Peter.”

He’s gasping, eyes blinking rapidly as he tries to breathe. The opening on his chest is jagged, the blood pouring out of him from his chest and his back. Michelle is nauseous at the sight, having never gotten used to mending Peter from his scrapes, from his bruises. She’s done it countless times, has mended his broken body over and over again.

But this… this is beyond her.

The android had cut clean through him, the blood is continuously pouring out of him. Michelle pulls him into her lap, keeping her hands firm on his chest as his head is cradled in her lap. In the second she places her hand on his chest, Michelle’s hands are already overflowing. The blood coming from Peter’s back already soaking her jeans.

“Peter, talk to me! Talk to me okay? I need you to say something, Pete okay?” He gurgles, blood rushing out of his mouth. Michelle panics.

“Okay, okay we don’t talk. Just keep your eyes open okay? Keep breathing, come on Pete. Just breathe for me okay?” Michelle looks up, tears in her eyes.

The fight is over, Wanda having cut the head off the android with whatever magic she possessed. Michelle had never been more grateful for them in her life. Would sing their praises forever if they made it out of this.

If Peter made it out of this.

Sam is the first one to arrive at her side, Bucky shortly after.

“Oh God.”

“Do something!” Michelle yells, crying as Peter’s gags, the blood still rushing out of his mouth, pouring out over her fingers.

“Michelle… I…”

“Don’t you DARE and say anything other than you’ll help me, Sam. Do something dammit! HELP ME” Michelle’s frantic, screaming at him. Sam’s stricken, the look on his face breaking Michelle’s heart more than the gurgling coming from Peter’s mouth.

She knows what that look is, knows what look has to mean. Sam is a soldier, is Captain America. He’s seen more blood and more death than Michelle could even fathom.

The look on his face tells her more than his words could ever say.

But she refuses to acknowledge it. Refuses to see it.

Peter can’t die. He can’t die. He promised.

Bucky rushes forward, applying pressure to Peter’s wound.

“Talk to him, Michelle. I got him. Sam, call Bruce.”

Sam is still stuck in place, frozen at the sight of Peter as he bleeds out.

“Sam!” Wanda’s voice shakes him out of his stupor and he puts a hand to his ear, no doubt calling for Bruce and his medical knowledge.

Wanda rushes to Peter and Michelle’s side, her eyes filled with concern and worry. She glances up at Michelle.

A look passes between them. Michelle knows that Wanda can read her mind, that a part of her powers is to know and feel what the people around her are experiencing.

But Wanda didn’t need to be a mind reader to know the agony that Michelle was facing. To know the only thought running over and over in her head.

_Save him. Save him. Save him._

Wanda waves her hand over Peter, eyes turning red as he continues to gasp, nodding to Michelle.

“Listen to Bucky, Michelle. Talk to Peter. Keep him awake. We’ll work until Bruce can get here.”

Michelle looks down, focusing on Peter’s face. He’s panting, eyes transfixed onto her face.

Michelle can feel the tears falling and tries to wipe them away, to stop them from falling onto his face.

“Peter? Peter, can you hear me? Listen to me, okay? We’re going to get you out of here alright? Sam is calling Bruce now okay? We’re going to get you help.”

Peter blinks, a wheeze. He puts a hand up towards her face. It’s bloody, there’s so much blood – too much blood – but Michelle just leans into it as she sobs.

“B…b…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, you don’t have to talk okay? Just stay awake alright? Keep your eyes open for me okay Pete?”

Peter blinks again, forcing himself to speak. She should’ve known, even then, that his Parker stubborn streak wouldn’t listen.

“Beautiful.” The croak of his voice takes the wind out of her, the rasp and wetness of his words causing Michelle’s heart to break more than she thought possible. She grasps his hand in hers.

“No time for flattery, Parker.” She sobs. “Come on now, save that for the bedroom okay?” Wanda and Bucky chuckle, Wanda’s face contorting in pain.

“What’s happening?”

“He is bleeding… too much. It is hard to contain… keep… keep talking to him.” Wanda’s voice strains with the effort, her hands shaking over Peter’s body, but Michelle obliges, looking back down at Peter.

The blood has stopped coming out of his mouth, his gaze almost peaceful as he looks up at her. In any other situation, she would think he was about to fall asleep – was just moments away from an afternoon nap before he went out for patrol.

But the idea of Peter sleeping – of Peter _not waking up_ – is not on the table.

“Hey Pete, did I tell you what Johnson was saying about me the other day? He actually complimented me. Said that I was the best intern I ever had.” Peter’s mouth turns into a half-smile.

“Crazy right? Such an ass.” Michelle laughs but the sound is pained. Peter’s eyes flutter and she grips his hand tighter.

“Hey now, nope. Not allowed alright? You gotta stay awake for me, Peter. Okay? You can’t.. you can’t do this to me alright? We talked about this. No dying on me alright? You promised me, Peter. Promised me that you’d be okay.”

Peter blinks slowly at her, looking off to her side. A confused look passes over his face.

“T-Tony?”

Michelle panics. Wanda and Bucky freezing at the name.

“No, no not Tony. Don’t look at Tony, look at me. It’s Michelle, I’m right here Peter. God, please – please don’t leave me yet. I can’t… I can’t do this without you.” Her voice cracks at this, the idea of Peter letting go, of Peter seeing Tony.

Michelle knows that Peter still misses Tony, that not a day goes by that Peter doesn’t wish Tony Stark was still alive.

But the thought of Peter seeing Tony now – _now_ , bleeding out in her arms, not even twenty years old when they still had a life yet to live – was beyond her.

The grief, the expanse of a world without him, empty and cold – lies in front of her.

“Don’t do this to me, Peter. Not here, not now okay? Look at me, just look at me.”

Peter does, eyes focusing on her. It’s a moment of clarity, a moment that somewhere in Michelle knows signifies that this is it. The surge right before the end. She pushes the thought out of her head.

All she does is hold him, looks into his eyes as he says the words that break her heart.

“I.. I just—I want you t-to be al-alright, sweetie.” He gasps in pain, his breath catching.

Michelle cries, shaking at the memory. “No, Peter… please. _Please._ Don’t do this to me. Don’t leave me, please. You promised. You _promised._ ”

“I l-love you.” She watches as Peter’s eyes – those beautiful brown eyes – start to look glassy. She pain of what she’s seeing cutting through her chest.

“Peter. _Please._ I love you, I love you Peter. Please, please don’t leave me.”

He inhales, Michelle clutching his face.

And then he stops. Heart breaking as she sees his eyes start to dim.

Michelle can hear a cry from Wanda, feel as Bucky tries to shake Peter’s body.

But Michelle can’t focus.

Can’t see anyone else.

Peter’s stopped breathing.

Peter’s eyes don’t see her anymore.

Peter isn’t breathing.

There is nothing left for her anymore.

* * *

Agony.

Aching.

Her every nightmare come to life. Every fear, every anxiety, every terror she’s ever had – nothing can compare to the desolation she feels in those first few moments.

In the distance, somewhere – Michelle doesn’t care – she registers that Wanda is yelling, that Bucky is screaming at Sam – but she can’t see anything. Can’t focus or hear anything.

All she can see is Peter.

Hold Peter.

Her dumbass boyfriend. The love of her life.

Peter’s stopped breathing.

Her breath catches.

_Peter’s dead._

* * *

Not a minute later, a minute too damn late, the jet arrives. Bruce comes rushing forward.

Michelle is frozen, stricken by the empty look in Peter’s eyes, the knowledge that Peter Parker – her idiot, her best friend, the absolute love of her life – stopped breathing just seconds before.

Peter is dead.

She knows that she should probably do something, should move or try to say something.

But she can’t.

She’s lost. The wave, the tsunami of grief overwhelming her.

It’s the end. It’s over.

Peter’s dead. He’s _dead_. He stopped breathing.

It’s her every nightmare come to life.

Peter is whisked out of her arms, someone grabs Michelle – carries her onto the jet too. Normally she’d be mortified at this, the idea of someone carrying her anywhere.

But Michelle doesn’t care. Can’t care. Won’t.  

The last thing, the only thing she ever cared about in this world, just stopped breathing.

Peter’s dead.

Michelle is set down, beside Peter. _His body_. Her eyes close as the nausea – the agony – overwhelms her.

* * *

A million memories flash through Michelle’s mind – a million more dreams that now could never be.

Peter before the Snap – when all he had ever been to Michelle was a dream, a possibility in the deepest parts of her soul.

Peter after – sad, and mourning, but still filled with love and so much light. The way the corner of his eyes would crinkle when she’d walk up, his laugh – a sound that used fill up Michelle’s entire being.

The moments they stole together in their early days, that day on the rooftop.

His eyes, his beautiful brown eyes, searching hers, filled with love and lust and desire the first time they moved in sync with each other, the first time they had ever made love. 

Movie nights spent curled up together, teasing and joking over lunch.

The long and lazy days spent in his apartment. The nights they barely slept at all.

All of it comes crashing down on Michelle.

But what’s worse for Michelle – the agony that rips through her – is the thought of the memories she’ll never get to make.

A wedding. City hall. A big one. She wouldn’t have cared.

A job at the Bugle, hustling through the city – knowing a swinging shadow wouldn’t be too far behind.

A baby, a child – two children. Three. All with Peter’s curly hair and her caramel skin.

The image cuts through her, the idea of having Peter’s babies. Of Peter being a dad.

Because he can’t now. He won’t.

 _Peter’s dead_.

* * *

 

And then.

She hears it.

There’s been a ringing in her ears that hasn’t stopped, the silence and ache of her own grief overwhelming all her other senses.

She’s aware that she’s besides Peter’s body, can sense that there’s a flurry of activity around her.

But it’s not just his body. She can hear it. The world starts to come back into focus.

It’s a heartbeat.

Peter’s heartbeat.

Michelle’s eyes open.

_Peter’s alive._

* * *

They’re rushed to the compound in no time. Bruce had brought an entire medical unit with them, working feverishly to stop the bleeding from a hole that had cut so cleanly through Peter.

Once Michelle’s aware of Peter, aware of his heartbeat, the telltale sounds of a machine that signals that he’s still breathing, it’s as if she too come alive. She’s attached to his bedside, unmoving as the nurses and doctors’ whirl around her.

She’s separated only when they arrive to the compound, only able to be stopped by Bruce.

“Let them work, Michelle.”

“I ca-can’t. I can’t leave him. He wasn’t—he stopped breathing, I can’t—” Michelle’s choked sob cuts her off, Bruce holding her back. Sam comes up behind her, pulling her into an embrace.

“It’s okay. He’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay.”

Michelle just sobs harder, knowing that of all the things Sam could say – he said the one thing she can’t bear to hear.

She wants with everything within her for Peter to be okay, for Peter to survive. For Peter to be _alive_.

But Sam shouldn’t promise these things.

He can’t know.

Michelle cries.

* * *

It’s hours before Peter is out of surgery. Hours more before Michelle is allowed to see him. The minute she is, she rushes in, taking little notice of the tubes and machines plugged into the man she loves, the ones that are keeping him alive.

She hears Bruce on some level, telling her that his healing has kicked him – that it’ll take some time, that they’re not out of the woods – but that he’s on the mend.

That he’ll be okay.

Michelle doesn’t listen. Can’t listen. Won’t.

She’ll believe it when she sees it.

* * *

It takes Peter three days to wake up.

Michelle doesn’t know who called her work, how she got relieved from classes. She’s told by Wanda later that she’s sick with the flu, apparently. Both of them are. A part of her wonders if this is Pepper’s doing, still looking out for the two of them. Michelle thinks she’ll have to double check, thank her later.

All she can think of is Peter. And when he wakes up, its as if something comes alive within her again.

She notices his finger twitching first, the flutter of movement behind his closed eyes. Michelle is at his bedside in an instant.

There are still tubes everywhere, oxygen flowing through his nose. He’s cracked and bruised and looking more broken than she’s ever seen him. But when Peter opens his eyes, those beautiful brown eyes, Michelle thinks it’s the best damn thing she’s ever seen.

“Hey tiger. What took you so long?” This makes Peter laugh, then wince.

“Tiger?” He croaks. “Where’d that come from?”

Michelle gestures to the streak across his chest, remnants of whatever the mechanical asshole had done to him. Bruce said it was just delayed healing, that his body was still working on healing the damage from the machinery had cut through him. To Michelle, it resembled a tiger stripe.

“You’re out here looking like Tony the Tiger, with a scar like that.” Peter grins, a soft look in his eyes.

“Might as well name a cereal after me. Spider-Man’s popular, you know?”

“Is he now?” Michelle smiles back, tears forming in her eyes as she brings a hand to his face. He leans into it, turning his face to kiss her palm. She rushes forward to intercept him, kissing him fiercely.

They stay like this for a minute, locked in an embrace until the machine starts beeping faster – signaling Peter’s heart starting to race. Michelle laughs, breaking the kiss.

“Nice to know I still have an effect on you, Parker.”

He gives a lopsided grin, his eyes still looking at her with a love that shakes her.

“You always did, MJ. Always will.”

She smiles back at him, feeling more whole than she’s felt in days.

It hits her then, that no matter what life will throw their way, no matter how dangerous Peter’s job will be – that she wouldn’t trade one second of it.

The agony of a life without him, the seconds that had felt like hours – where she had felt like her world had shattered – nothing could surpass the joy, the sheer relief of the moment she was experiencing right here with him.

He was broken, bruised, and in pain. But he would get back up again. Spider-Man – Peter – always got back up.

Michelle didn’t have powers. Didn’t care much about the Avengers or super-powered freaks.

But she cared about Peter.

Loved Peter.

Was convinced that Peter Parker was the love of her life.

And today, looking into his eyes – filled with the knowledge that she was the love of his – solidified something for her.

No matter what happened next in his life, no matter what comes her or Peter’s way – it was worth it. Peter and her, were worth it. Would always be worth it.

Maybe the universe had brought them together. Maybe Betty was right all those years ago, maybe it was fate.

Michelle didn’t know, didn’t care.

Michelle was convinced that no matter what happened…

As long as they had each other, they’d be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE LONGEST CHAPTER YET.
> 
> Seriously, I think this one is almost 20 pages long. 
> 
> Writing this series has been an absolute joy. As you can tell, I ADORE Peter & MJ as a couple and even though they look different in the MCU - I cannot emphasize enough how excited I am see to them rise. 
> 
> Marvel said PeterMJ rights... AND SO DO I!!!!
> 
> If you want more Peter & MJ, they will play a big part of my new story [The Road Not Taken](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18971959/chapters/45046546). Additionally, I'm planning on participating in [spideychelle week](https://spideychelleweek.tumblr.com/post/181841293218/spideychelle-week-is-a-week-dedicated-to-the-shipweek) at the end of the month so stay tuned!
> 
> Thank you all for following along this story. If you haven't already, please leave a comment and let me know what you think! I also love people screaming at me on [ tumblr](http://seek-rest.tumblr.com).


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